The bad premunition crept up his spine like a cold tendril, making his hackles stand on end. It only got worse when Lilya introduced herself, confirming that she was Lachesis mate, and fellow leader. It took all Drestig’s self control not to demand answers right then, teeth clenching briefly with the exertion. Then his attention shifted back to XIX, as the pale man tried to ease the conversation along. A deep frown creased his dark brow as he cast another glance towards the agouti shewolf before nodding faintly. “The Fields are… Well,” he granted; “We’re holding good numbers, and Jessie gave birth to three healthy pups at the end of May.” The shadow of a smile played around his lips at the mention of his children, but it couldn’t overshadow the realization of what bad news the River was about to deliver.
With a heavy sigh and a shake of his head, Drestig met the other leader’s chartreuse gaze, eyes dark; “But now, please tell me, what’s happened to Kisla?” It was obvious that the matriarch no longer lead her River wolves and he could only deduce, from this and the somber airs, that something terrible must have happened to her. Despite her having been healthy and strong, with many good years still left in her the last time they spoke, Drestig couldn’t imagine Kisla handing over leadership to anyone willingly, unless something had made her unable to continue; Something bad..!
Taking a brief, sideways glance, the Rye alpha noticed his companion looking towards the silent guardian of the River, her mind pretty clearly on other matters. Giving her a light nudge with his shoulder, to catch her attention, he nodded ever so slightly, glancing towards the blonde male and then jerked his muzzle lightly; A permission to leave and be alone, if they so wished. There was no need for the young - Lovers? - to stay at, what was sure to be a sorrowful discussion. Better they go and enjoy each other’s company while they could; There will be plenty of time for grief.
Word count: 346
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