Dragoncrest Cliffs Gleypa

Svalinn looked up from Wing, knowing that he was the one addressed, the odd man out. The she-wolf who spoke bore a gold capelet and a face streaked with glistening blood; her golden eyes filled with apprehension and grief.

Svalinn, he called back to her. There was little time for small talk, considering all the knocked-out wolves around them, and they all needed immediate treatment, some more than others. The stench of poison seemed to come from all angles. Val is my nephew. He tipped his head towards the unconscious black wolf. And Erzulie… He couldn’t bring himself to speak of her, because it would be in the past-tense.

The raybearer shook his head. Look, I’m here to do what I can. But Wing may have gotten some poison in her wound. She needs the sea, right away.