Hoshor Plains The Promised Paradise [Claiming Howl]

Unlike the wolves who had lain claim to this new land, Tomahawk did not add her voice to the mix. She was not one of them, even if she belonged to them. They were her keepers, and she would serve them, but she was not foolish enough to think that her own voice should sing alongside their own. Instead, she stood obediently at the Khal's side, ears pricked forward as she heard the voices sing out. Their song was a beautiful one, and it made her own heart thrum in her chest. Her masters would rule here, and she would be with them.

Her efficiency in the language had been coming along nicely, and she would continue to be a translator between the common tongue and the Dotharan's foreign sounds. Tomahawk was content with her place, so long as she could live among them.