by Netah "Dusk is dead." Netah Grimtotem's ear twitched slightly as she walked through the camp in Stonetalon Mountains, but otherwise her expression didn't shift. "Finally, hm?" The elder Grimtotem's hand came down firmly on her shoulder, halting her progress. "He was killed." Netah turned, arching an eyebrow, her mouth set in a neutral grin. "Is that so? Some kind of drunken brawl? Or did he go after the wrong man's woman again?" "Murdered, by an outsider. There are witnesses." She could use it now, though. "Where is she, Snow?" She demanded. The sounds of pursuit.