Kildeer Rest This Race Is a Prophecy

Unaware of the scathing thoughts directed at him, Brewster's own features softened as Calhoun replied, assuring him that they would be all brought together again in time. There was no doubt the devastating fire had shaken his faith in the High Elk, had him questioning the purposes in His grand plan for taking away their home and so many loved ones, but he cast aside the cynicism abruptly. His nephew was right, despite what had happened, he had to have hope, trust that the High Elk had a greater purpose for those who had survived.

The man gave a nod in agreement, gaze hardening once more. It was proof enough that the first wolf he had come across was indeed another family member; they just had to keep searching and let themselves be guided to where He thought they should go.

At the mention of his paw, Brewster tried to dismiss the concern with a shake of his head. "Pah! It'll take more than a pitiful little burn to take me down," he announced proudly, though he still didn't dare step upon the injured foot. He knew, deep down, hunting was now out of the question with such a wound, and while he was capable enough, a lone wolf at his age could only survive for so long, High Elk's guidance or no.

"Still, it would be wise to find a pack to take us in," he said, limping forward a little. "At least until we find the rest."