Sawtooth Spire mach schnell

Wylla had less of a stake in this than her male companions, who'd poured everything into Diaspora and now Sagtannet. She worked hard as Eisen, to be sure, but she'd be a fool to think the pack viewed her with the same respect they did Mahler. And unlike Stag, she couldn't claim a familial tie to the mountains. Truth be told, she'd never been a fan of Sawtooth Spire and still wasn't. The only thing she would miss about the territory was the possibility of Thade's return.

To leave here felt like giving up on him. He might find his way home, if he was even alive, and they wouldn't be there to greet him. He wouldn't know where they'd gone, might never locate them again. It cracked a deep fissure in Wylla's heart to think that, but hadn't she already given up on him? She already believed he was dead, and they couldn't wait around forever, not even for her little boy.

They had to move on.

There was a creek we once knew, Wylla said thoughtfully, glancing a moment at Mahler. They hadn't been friends when they lived at Swiftcurrent Creek. More like enemies. It'd been a decently fortified territory, though, and she had a few fond memories of it. A few terrible ones, too. She swallowed thickly when she recalled that her brother had also been torn to pieces by a bear there, the truth of which she'd never learned. Maybe not the best place... But she was at a loss for what else to suggest.

Her mind lit on Ankyra Sound momentarily—several of them were familiar with the territory already—but she dismissed that thought with a mental wave of the hand. Fuck that place. Nothing good had ever come from there in Wylla's opinion, and she refused to subject her daughter, or any of their pups, to the bad juju of that accursed cove.

That was about the extent of her knowledge. She had no ideas.