What the Cat Dragged In
Sinstari knew something was wrong. Aside from Barlo, few dwarves spoke with him directly, but he could sense the worried tension that permeated his companion’s home. Fidar—Barlo’s youngest cub—no longer spent his nights off carousing with friends. He moped about the house instead, as if afraid to leave. His older siblings visited more often than was their wont, bringing parcels of food to share. Even Barlo’s behavior had changed. He hadn’t left to work in his forge for days.
Sinstari finished grooming his charcoal and golden fur. He had more silver patches now, but that was to be expected. He was getting older, after all. When he finished smoothing the last errant clump into place, he rose to his feet and padded toward Barlo’s bedroom. He found his dwarven compani
