The darklands, were in an uproar, the healer’s den was a hive of activity. why? The game keeper had dragged in Spudd, the nyarlagroth unresponsive and full of barbed hooks dug into his flesh. he was bleeding and groggy, and would need a careful touch to pull the barbs and repair his wounds.
More concerning? Katana’s sister, the youngest, the training beast master, was barely clinging to her life. Broken. near shattered like glass.
Kat herself, was shaken, and barely keeping anger in check.
“Just. Fix. Them.”
She could barely choke out the words, she wanted to kill something, someone, she knew who did it and was eager for the hunt, but she had to be sure the victims were cared for first.
wings don’t bend that way. feathers are not lost right after growing in. old scars don’t reopen. someone was making a statement. A very specific one.
