Heronsong, Duke, maybe one other warrior at the end
A chance meeting
Northplains, near the Carrionplace (Whitehart Landfill)
17
Heronsong kept her wits about her as she patrolled the border. Palestar’s warning of not leaving the camp alone had stuck with her. But her patrol partner had just stepped away for a moment, so she wasn’t technically alone. She was safe. Enough. For now.
But a breeze blew through the pines, bringing in a new smell. Heronsong lifted her head, taking in the scent. It was odd, definitely cat but not of any clan. Perhaps it was the rogue. The tortoiseshell Palestar had warned everyone about. Her hackles raised, she took a few steps over the border, trying to get a line of sight on the cat, trying to figure out if it was worth calling her patrol mate back over for.
