Qeya River Shadowblight

Upon the sight of Silvertongue, the fearful animal within Shadowpaw became dominant. She ran far from the desert and went into hiding, alone and unconsolable. A small, sick part of Shadowpaw was glad to see Starclan deliver comeuppence to one who had abaondoned their moonstone… but maybe not so much. Not like this. The thick, putrid scent of Silvertongue’s blood and ruined state was forever imprinted within her offspring’s mind.

Eventually, Shadowpaw had no where else to run. She returned to the river where she knew her mother, Ash Star, now lived with her new children. Perhaps Wren had returned, too.

Winter’s Wake had discovered a base of the Saatsine wolves, but it was not as guarded here; the borders were pitifully stale. The caribou-chasers had migrated southeast with the caribou. Though perhaps their base was still tended to, the rogue snowrunner had to wonder why they kept borders at all, with all the traveling they were wont to do.

An arrangement of charred twigs stood ahead of him. A scarecrow? No, it looked skittish. A sable young deer, then? That wasn’t it either. When Wake had padded near enough to determine the creature’s profile, he realized it was a wolf.

Ave, stranger, he called, lifting his tail in a wag. Do you run with Saatsine?

Shadowpaw waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Had they moved again? Shadowpaw’s ear flicked and her lips pursed in thought. Maybe the river wolves had gone on their own search of Silvertongue…

The voice of another, from outside the old boundary, popped her thought bubble.

It was not a face she recognized. He looked to live the life of an outrider, like a lawless cowboy of the taiga... but his demeanor was reminiscent of a cat's.

Shadowpaw grimmaced. She didn’t have any more time to waste on interloping loners. But… maybe this one knew things.

“Saatsine? Never heard the name,” she replied. “I’m looking for the wolves of Qeya River. I need to speak with their leader, Ash Star. Do you know this land? The Taiga? Have you seen them?” she asked flatly, as if to not reveal her heart’s weakness.

The wolf was displeased to see him. How was this possible? Was he not a vision to behold? A sight for sore eyes?

Maybe they were partially blind and he need only to come a little closer…

The winterwolf strode forward a few paces, letting his ears stand tall for her viewing pleasure. I do not know an Ash Star, he began, remembering that Sun Eater had mentioned no mate nor a partner in his leadership of the caribou-hunters. But this land smells of the reindeer-chasers, the pack of Saatsine. I know a bit about them. They are led by a wolf with one eye named Sun Eater. Perhaps that name spoke to her.