Bearclaw Valley a gentle gossamer wing

Indra echoes her statement, giving her a small sense of relief. Poet knows she isn't socially inept to a dangerous degree (she has managed to make friends in Blondine and Sif and Phocion at the least) but all the same it is reassuring to know she is not the only one who feels somewhat out of sync. Perhaps she is not so strange as she feels sometimes.

"Ah," the ex-priestess says, feeling a flush of embarrassment. "Well, the pack I came from ... it was not quite a pack in the traditional sense of the word, but a religious sect where I served as a priestess." Beneath-Night's Breath had been an 'alpha' in the sense that they were a god but ... no, it was not quite the same thing at all. "I grew up there and never experienced a more traditional sort of communal living. I feel somewhat lacking in purpose," she admits in turn. She does what she is told and she knows she has valuable skills to contribute, yet the lack of structured ritual is still something of an adjustment for her.