Neverwinter Forest Children of the Firehawk

Lasher bled, and Tonravik was irate, her tail rigid and terribly still behind her.

An ear cupped to take in Kroc's words, and she observed the earthen man before her. He had spoken ill of her? A wounded look crossed her features then, offended; Taltos had known her, and her mother, and Tonravik held an ample amount of respect for him. The man before her was no stranger to Tartok, and how even its leaders might be called away to war without word. Sometimes, those leaders never returned because death took them. Tonravik, however, knew her place to build and begin was here. And so, when she could, she did.

Tonravik sought none of those that had followed her once, finding them by chance, by fortune. She saw the rage in him--felt it, even, it was so palpable--but could not react to it. For she refused to believe that he had turned so wholeheartedly against what he, even if denied it, was still very much a part of; Taltos had always been wise. Her stony eyes held him, in wait.