Felltree Marsh and beautiful-haired muses

Erzulie’s gentle caress was a welcomed gesture, but not even his captain’s touch could erode dread’s icy grasp on his mind. Njord felt a thick knot in his throat as the goldspun healer explained their cohort’s troubles.

“Wha’ ‘appened to ‘er anyway? ‘Er paw an’ ear…” Njord’s voice faded as he realized how much he hadn’t been privy to – or, perhaps, ignorant of. So consumed by the joy of children he had overlooked Haunt’s withering state. Memories flickered in his mind: hunting together in the Spring. Riding out a snow storm in the winter. What was happening to his friend?