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Was she joking? At first Denver couldn't tell, but when her chin showed a fresh pink scar, he knew she wasn't. Caspa talked of the trouble that had kept her, but in a way that made him wonder how bad it all had really been. "You serious?" he asked, but knew it was true. "What happened?" Sitting back against the rough bark of the tree, he looked his friend over with pale, wondering eyes. The war had not affected the northern packs, and he was thankful; Denver wanted no part in a war that wasn't his own. "Well, if I die, it's all on you to tell m'pack," he said with a momentary chuckle. It wasn't a joking matter, he knew, but she seemed to make light enough of it that he might as well too. Her posture did not suggest a short meeting, and for that he was glad. It could take hours for them to catch up on everything that had happened in the past months. The sky had grown dark, but the fire grew as he added a fresh log, and soon the crackle of the flames provided ambiance for their talk.
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