Let Her Remember

Ryatt

The bartender at the quaint inn we’re staying at for the night pours me another glass of whiskey neat. I nod my thanks as little jolts of pain run up my spine, skittering like mice. It took three jumps to get from that hell-hole where my daughter was born back to Rifthold. I was barely standing by the end of it, and after two full days traveling on foot, we’ve finally made it to a familiar pack, a familiar village, and are back in the Roguelands.

We’ll be close enough to Veiled Valley that I can spirit us the rest of the way there after another day of travel.

I turn back to the table where I’ve just left the Alpha and Beta of this pack to finish their platters of roast beef, bread, and stew. Granger already retired to bed an hour ago, and the witch, still unnamed, is visiting with the local healer.

Westfall has made himself scarce during our journey here and is fine acting as a scout while we navigate the Roguelands. Something has to be done, however. He’s on edge and flighty. I