The new adult had not made her journey by herself. Rather, she had been escorted by Sansa, who honestly was such a sweetheart even after all that had happened to them. Primrose couldn’t say she herself wasn’t kind, but she was much more reserved, suspicious, and cautious, as well as wiser, than she had been when she was a pup. Everything that had happened had made Primrose so. She had made Sansa promise to wring the fates of Tytos and Tyrion from members of Drekistone and somehow get them to the flowered tribrid . . . though she felt in her heart that they had died long ago. These many months had passed with the disappearance of Primrose’s sister, Nanala; sometimes she suspected that Nanala was dead too.
She stood at the border to Amaya, head thrown back as she let forth a howl. Sansa had left not long ago. She was going to Drekistone, to live with her brother Ghost, his mate, and their children.
While Prim was going to finally meet her grandmother, her mother’s mother, the former Storm Queen.


“So I’ll use my voice, I’ll be so f u c k i n g rude!”