LERRIN
In his tent—the largest in the encampment, big enough for four wolves, which was a stupid waste—Lerrin sat on the chest at the end of his furs and stared at the ground.
After a morning with the security council that had been frustrating, but productive, he'd made excuses to return to his tent to review reports from the trackers and scouts.
But there were no new reports coming until that evening.
He was a coward, pure and simple.
