Swiftcurrent Creek But in a much more real sense, I had no idea what to do.

What met her was a scarred, charcoal face. She stared into the golden eyes, brows furrowing, widening, then furrowing again.

Lilitu would have stood down and retreated were it not for the odd note of. . .familiarity that lit their path.

My name's Lilitu, she admitted, lifting her chin. I'm looking for my sister, Arielle.

For however long, the two wolves stared at each other across the creek.