The Tangle masked in blood and bathed in fire

a joke.

caiaphas' muzzle remained unchanged, as if the joke had fallen flat. and then, like a shy sun peering beyond spent rainclouds, her features gradually changed. a slow lift of her brow, the quiet assembly of a smile -- fleeting as it was, it was there, and she gave a flick of a tail as if in appreciation of the joke.

in truth, she would just as soon call grimnismal 'pack' -- and little did she know, in a few days' time, it would be a pack no longer.

he mentioned a debt; caiaphas' gaze flickered. darkly, caiaphas wondered how often it was that wolves repaid their debts. in her experience, very rarely -- she thought of saltwinter, of ankyra in its' origins -- so many lives had been harbored in the sound, and so many lives went on without gratitude for her hand in the shape of their lives. it was a bitter thought and she swallowed it quickly.

"big words. prove them sometime later." she replied, motioning with her muzzle to the path. how little faith the siren queen had -- it must have been quite plain, even to a stranger like vilkas. yet she did not offer anything else; instead, she watched him warily, picking her way southeast.