Blackfoot Forest A hundred jewels between teeth

Liri had been at the river, a hotspot for the healer ever since she had joined, raising her head and pricking her ears in the direction of Minna's call. Everyone had been scarce about the territory and eerily quiet as if it were the calm before the storm. Responding eagerly at the chance of food, Liri followed the call across the forest.

The sight of the unknown male, whom was obviously Kierkegaard, threw her slightly. Liri had imagined him up in her head to be some ugly, gruesome creature -- not unlike Pallas's grizzled appearance -- but he was not. The usurper appeared to be an ordinary male. Liri had to keep a carefully collected expression on her face, nodding at the assembled wolves as she approached.

A tiny band of deer had gathered in the meadow, grazing peacefully. It might have been a beautiful, awe-inspiring sight had Liri not been a ravenous wolf just coming out of a famine. Licking her chops eagerly, Liri waited to hear the game plan for their next meal.