Healer's Rest [Healer's Raid Camp]

The crimson man sat patiently on the wall, tucked halfway into one of the shelters built at the top of the passages, a heavy bison pelt tucked over his shoulders to keep the wind off. His daughter had chosen quite the storm to raid in, and he wondered how they were faring. He could just pick up the sounds of fighting beginning over the wind.

At either hip hunkered his companions, black on one side, white on the other. The mated pair of mountain lions had a child in the fight as well, though they were just as confident in Loshir’s abilities as he was. Oh, he didn’t discount that his daughter could be beaten. All it took was just one wrong move. He was proof of it. He had at least one grandchild out there, too.

Ardyn was excited, and this raid would help channel that excitement into productivity. Spring’s cusp would bring the year full-circle, and his grandchildren would be yearlings. Yearlings already. He sighed, tucking the bison hide over his front paws out of the wind. His hind legs were tucked underneath him, ready to propel him from the wall onto an attacker if need be.