Swiftcurrent Creek meadowline

He knew what the blue-eyed man spoke was true. They would be back—even if they had the girl in their numbers once more, they would be back. They weren’t the type of wolves to take losing well, and Akavir held no doubt they would want a second round.

He could only hope they had more numbers by then, and that the others also hadn’t grown. Perhaps, if the Creek wolves were lucky, the others had succumbed to their wounds or drowned in the creek.

Otherwise, he held no doubt they would be back… probably sooner, rather than later.

There was little else to say right now. Stiff from injuries and fatigued from nearly everything, Akavir simply gave a nod to his companion, muzzle tipping forward to brush the other man’s soldier in both gratitude and fortitude. They would need to rest for now, and prepare for what was to come next.