Ouroboros Spine pitâk ◺

Out to wander and then back again to the stony bowl that was Moonglow, the warrior had worn himself thin, beyond the normal weariness that he wore on his frame. The search for the dark princeling had returned almost nothing for information and Foxfur had become restless with the waiting of it.

It serves you right, the wolf berated himself internally, to have underestimated a fear-ridden child. Foxfur wondered if he had simply gone without it for so long that he no longer recalled the kind of motivation terror could offer. Duty had overtaken such things long before his time in the foreign clan.

A pale woman stood ahead of him in a field of vibrant lavender. The herb was a common one for medicine wolves and their trade, though Foxfur did not know why. The warrior approached tentatively and lowered his head with respect to the woman.