Bramblepoint they should deliver all my blessings in small brown paper handbags near the porch

dacio's presence does not surprise praimfaya. it is not uncommon for him, aleks or ingram — sometimes two or all three, even — to linger near her. whether seen or unseen they are always near. she draws strength from their presences. his reaction to the woman, however, is curious. praimfaya's frostbound silver gaze flickers from the woman to dacio and then back again as he greets the stranger with a rumble to his statement. it is obvious the two know one another and praimfaya studies her seda's posture from the corner of her eye, her attention shifting back to the stranger in full as she responds almost sweetly.

and then the question about her is thrown into the mix. there's a slightly imperious rise to praimfaya's chin as she considers the woman and dacio's bristled guard hairs. who is she? praimfaya asks dacio, deciding that it is better to exchange words with him within the privacy of their own shared tongue. there is, she considers, a chance that the woman might understand but given how most wolves react to hearing trig, praimfaya uses it with the confidence that it isn't understood.

though the stranger's question does not go unnoted, praimfaya does not answer it right now — besides that the words the stranger uses suggest that it was meant for dacio more-so than her.