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"The Foothills is certainly a refuge to you, then, because Frostfall barely impacts our territory. There are just a few ice patches." If it were possible for his features to stretch into a smile he surely would, but his muscles had no memory of the action. Instead he looked down on the mare in a stoic state. "In the heart of the territory a waterfall feeds a pool, that should suffice to remove your blemishes." The mare before him looked like hell, he would not deny that. She was in need for exactly what she desired and Archibald would willingly show her where to quench her body.
Archibald's ears twitched in thought, wondering what Mandrake thought of his new intensity and seriousness to the herd. Archibald had participated in a war that was not his own; it was only tied to him because of his rank in the Foothills. The Qian were their allies, and Archibald fought for them. He had not had time to take his mother's opinion on the matter, for she was sparse as of late. The times he had seen her she stuck only to her jaguar form and she was more angry than ever. He figured she was upset over Knox--he was a wanderer by nature and resembled so much of his father.
