Finn
Cheers ricochet off the walls of the quick-build arena, deafening, as one wolf shoulders another out of the jousting lane. I think both of them are from Dun’s Crossing. In theory, they ought to be wearing our colors. Hell, they might be. But I’ve barely been paying attention.
Most of my attention is on the thin wisps of silver-gray mist threaded through the clouds. The very first sign of a Haze settling in.
Kieran said this might happen. As communication and cooperation grows, it’s becoming more obvious that, though the Haze always comes somewhat randomly, big gatherings of wolves are likelier to be hit. Especially big gatherings that blend kingdoms, giving mates that ordinarily wouldn’t be able to reach each other more chance to mingle. Yet another reason to wish the diplomatic vi
