Chapter 29: Of Doodles and Chicken ScratchingsThe soft glow of the hurricane lamp cast a peaceful radiance around the tent, lighting the sketch I was working on.
In the little cradle Epi procured, Patrick was sleeping soundly and the only sound in the tent was the scratching of charcoal across paper as I drew. I was relishing the silence in these last few hours before the council meeting. Sprawled across the bedroll, I had the sketchpad lying on the floor, one hand clasping my hair away from my face as I drew. Conal was with Amoux and Nonny, discussing if Conal would return to his pack. He remained unconvinced, but Nonny and Amoux were working hard to change his mind. Why wouldn't they? A Tremaine had led the pack from inception. Conal and I had barely spoken of it – our time together was
