Duck Lake we remained locked together

a voice of reason, this one. he and evien were rather alike. with a sigh, merrick sat up, bits of debris falling from his shoulders. "you're right," he agreed in a small voice quite uncommon to his usual demeanour. what he truly wanted was to drag his bitch aunt laurel out and hang her from the sitting-stone at the mouth to bearclaw — but he need not voice this aloud.
"what do you think of the others?" merrick asked instead, reaching to nudge the willowy warrior before springing up to his feet, full of nervous energy that would be better put to a patrol. assuming skoll accompanied him, the boy set off, breathing the cold air of early spring and feeling somehow better.