Wild Berry Meadow you were coming across as clever, then you lit the wrong end of your cigarrette

Because Étoille had not known the woman previously, he did not know her nature. He did not have the luxury of the 4th wall. Perhaps he would have found it funny, his way of inspiring others into speaking with his own reticence. The red woman began to tell him her story. The large male pulled up from his recline, expression blandly attentive. Twice now he had met the daughters' of pack founders - leaders, at least. Given the scope of the land, he supposed it wasn't that unlikely.

Her story seemed to be causing her grief. He watched her body tense. The way her voice caught in her throat. Étoille was unsure why she continued to speak, then. Concepts like processing and emotional trauma were beyond his admittedly limited scope. When she finished, he waited a beat, and then spoke, "I see."

He did not know why he felt compelled to press. "Is your Glacier still there," he asked in that non-questioning way of his. They all left could mean literally, or it could refer to just her bloodline. It occured to him a moment later she probably wouldn't know, if she'd been gone. But he did not bother to retract his question, and watched her steadily.