Larksong Grotto In the driveway,

Sagtannet… from the mountains. She withheld the furrow of a brow—for she held little doubt the familiar scent that hinted upon the woman’s pelt was that of her prior comrades and the mention of the shadowed heights implicated they maintained their home.

Yet… Stigmata’s legacy had gone, it seemed. There was a certain hollowness in her chest only momentarily, though the sharp inhale of fresh winter air aligned the logic back within—they had all needed to move on, it seemed.

“The mountains,” she murmured, her eyes swiftly departing the face to study them for only a moment. “I lived there once.” She paused, testing the waters. “A pack called Diaspora.”