Redtail Rise dracarys

As the other spoke in her tongue, Sangilak blinked. It was not spoken as one of their tongue would have spoken it, and she wondered if the wolf before her meant any sentiment behind it. Whether Thuringwethil meant it or not, Sangilak was at once wary and yet glad for the familiarity the other brought on by the single word. All the same, she would not repay her in kind. What little Sangilak knew of the tongue of the others wolves was kept to herself.

She had deduced many things in the others greeting. One: violence was undesired, which meant her brethren had not come against her fellow foreigner. Two: she did not speak in her own tongue, but spoke in the tongue of Tartok. The word was not a hidden one, a token of their culture; it was well meaning, and when said it was oft used in a companionable manner. Were it a Tartok wolf speaking to her, Sangilak might have truly been at ease; as it was, she was not, and so she remained stalwart and stoic. Sangilak only grunted in turn, and then spoke clearly for Thuringwethil to understand. A nod in greeting, to return the others, and then onto business: What has brought you here?

Brusque as ever, but not disappointed, or cold. Sangilak had been intrigued, so to speak, by the other warriors well beyond them. Far enough to never be a cause for worry when it came to resources, but close enough for Tartok's ever watchful-eye, hungry for dispersal wolves they could bring into their fold. Sangilak had met this one before her eyes, and her interest had never been so evident up until this point. Again, she had found herself in the same place as the other. Their lands had mutually not been so far from here, so it was nothing more than coincidence she was here, Sangilak only wondered why.