Falls of the Hinterlands rhaeadr

He settles in as she begins to speak, expecting a drawn-out tale. Not so drawn-out as he might have expected, it turns out--but no less bloody than any of the great legends. His lips curl at her description of Blackfeather Woods--the name itself is repulsive enough, but their actions? Abhorrent--and he gives several curt nods regarding what came next, glad that the coalition had bested their enemy.

Their enemy. Charon had mentioned none nearby. What does he know about these lands? It seems like everyone and everything is coming as a surprise.

"A bit of hunting, scouting," Llewellyn says, quickly fending off her question. He is much more interested in the relationships between packs. "So Blackfeather Woods. . .the pack still exists? They were not snuffed out for good?" His eyes grow cold, harsh. "You cannot cut the tail off the serpent and expect things to be done. It will grow a new tail, come back stronger than ever." Young Ioan had taught that lesson too well.

His face is sour as he continues. "Perhaps we should band together again, take them out once and for all," he suggests darkly.