The pygmy woman sat up and smiled at her, although the smile wasn’t soft or warm enough to be truly sincere. Vesper knew that much; most of her smiles were the same, more smirks twitching her lips upward. She had been ice, but the fire clan had melted that loner’s shield away, and her smiles came more easily now.
As she dismounted from her stallion, the Optio sighed at her question and stared in frustration at her paws. Stark and I haven’t seen any, she replied quietly, naming her raven. Nor have any of the other scouts I’ve talked to—but it’s only a matter of time, I think. She lashed her tail behind her. It was too… It wasn’t just a stupid fight like the other wolves that harass our borders. It was a strike. I fear that they’ll come back.
She had seen the skulls. She had heard the tales of monsters coming to the borders to piss on their land or snarl at their children. The coyotes had hunted them down one by one, decorating their borders with their enemies, but this was the first time she’d heard of that wolves had come so far into their lands bringing steel. For all of her scars, the dozens of enemies she’d faced great and small, Vesper had never seen war before, and she was worried that she might get her first taste.
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