Silverlight Terrace Coloring book of cats for adults

Hydra listened to the whole of the story, interested. Towhee—that was a name she had not heard of in a while. Now and then Hydra thought of her; the girl had once been her best friend. How was she now? And where? She had thought that they had departed the Wilds entirely, but it seemed this was not the case. The tale had its ups and downs to say the least. Wildfire was dead, and Colt, too; her muzzle wrinkled some at the mention of trespassers... it was well known how Hydra felt about the sort, and what she would do should she got her teeth upon one. 

It all came to pass upon a vote; she could not find herself surprised by that either. Wraen was a likeable wolf, most unlike Hydra. Personable, affable, friendly—that was the face of her that Hydra had been taken with. No doubt the others had seen this side of her, too. But Hydra could see past all that; she knew there was more to Wraen than her just being a friendly story-teller. 

Wraen went on, and Hydra nodded as she came to her conclusion. With a wave of her own tail, Hydra asked (referring to the point she had made about those around Wraen's age): Towhee? Wondering about how she fared within all of this chaos. It was easy for Hydra to forget Towhee's handicap altogether as she thought of the Redhawk—it had never slowed her down before. She wondered how Wraen might have fallen into such a friendship; she and Towhee held very similar viewpoints, or at least they had, on several matters. But then she had envisioned Towhee leading herself! Had that not been the case when she ran with the Redhawks...? So much time had passed.