Dragoncrest Cliffs the world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold

As Thuringwethil had hoped, Tirgatao did not catch the twitch of muscle upon hearing her voice. They were too far apart, and it was too dark out to pick up on Heda's subtle physical reactions, nor her expressions. The light of dawn barely kissed the far horizon, and the skies above them were still dismal gray-blue hue. She did, however, take note of the invitation (as it was a rather broad gesture) and closed the distance between them with a few long strides. The pale woman came to rest beside the dusky she-wolf though her ears remain firmly set against her neck as she takes in the hard line of her jaw and refracting glint of her gaze. 

She was completely silent as she waited for Heda to decide if her question, and Tirgatao herself, is worthy of an answer. When she does, it lacks detail, though the tone suggests a further depth to the problem than the Shouna had anticipated. She knows how unusual it is for Thuringwethil to be unsettled; disturbing the heart and mind of their Heda was a feat not often observed, at least by those who lived to tell about it. She was once again reminded of Seageda, and frowned at the memory. 

Tirgatao lashed her tongue across her inky lips as she ruminated over the information. Her immediate thought was to return to Trigeda and ask for volunteers to join them in Drageda. She was certain many would—she was more certain that more would join if she called upon the favors she'd banked over the years in exchange for her skills in mediating various interpersonal problems. But the problem was deeper than that. It required unquestionable loyalty, and the forethought to remain a permanent fixture in Drageda, not a temporary one. 

"Should we send someone? Myself? I could talk to Tanja, or..." she trailed off and sucked in a breath. The clan was not failing, but it needed bolsturing. "Trigeda will listen to me. I will make sure of it." I will do anything for you, Heda.