When the Kings Lose Their Crowns

He had not known Sin very well, in the end. Through, judging by his enemies, he had made enough mistakes to last a life time. Yet, despite who his enemies thought he was, somewhere along the way he had been a man that Glacier had called friend. A friend he had then had to watch die, a friend who had children at least one of which he was close enough to, to feel sorrow on her behalf as well as his own. He was glad that he had at least convinced her to wait in the Donostrea territory, out of sight and safe well the death-match went on.

Did she know yet the outcome? Would he be the one who would have to tell her that her father was dead? With all the enemies her father had made, where would she belong now in this world? None of this thoughts where easy as he returned to the Prairie for her. He crossed over into his packs territory and followed her scent to a small cover of trees. When his eyes fell upon her he would see the sorrow, and he would know that she understood what had happened. “Silva?” he called out softly.