The Sunspire I see fire, burning the trees,

As emotional as Riley was getting before, he was even more emotional now another Saints wolf was involved.

He rose stiffly to his legs, wincing as a dart of pain howled up through his wounded hip. The raw laceration was still far from healed, and even as he did his best to hide his limp, it was glaringly obvious as he stalked gingerly forward.

For a moment it looked the boy was to say something. Certainly, there were wheels and cogs turning -- but it looked like his wheels were spinning out into nothing.

He closed his jaws abruptly and placed weight on his favored hind leg with a grimace. Riley wanted so badly to say some cutting remark, but he simply wasn't made for such riposte, and had naught to give the duo but silence.

Riley wanted nothing -- unequivocally nothing -- to do with the spat he could feel would be brewing. "Esme," the yearling whispered to himself as he gave a passing glance to Nyra and then made to limp down the mountainside. On his way down, he heard a croak -- and passed the form of a wolf that would have been familiar to him if he'd been paying attention.