Hoshor Plains Oh, we said our dreams will carry us

She watched as the eagle took wing, leaving behind the scraps it hoped to feed on. Rakharo didn't turn to her, and Laqikki didn't expect him to. Even wise Khals knew the Dosh Khaleen commanded great respect, but Laqikki was just one crone, and even then, a Khal was still greater. Her companions had yet to arrive and there was little she could glean on her own, so for now she lounged about the great golden plains with little insight to offer to anyone.

Except her opinions, of course, which were never very kind. The Khal attempted to explain the situation and Laqikki barked a hoarse laugh. She didn't mean to mock him, but she was quick to ask, "whose fault is that?" A Khaleesi could be made of any wolf willing to take a powerful Khal upon their back, though she supposed there were more males in this khalas than in many others. The most suitable female was Rakharo's daughter.

Not that Laqikki would've even batted an eyelash if Rakharo bedded his own daughter and had children by her. That sort of thing didn't make a lick of difference to the crone.

"Why have you not chosen a Khaleesi, Rakharo?" she wondered, settling herself with creaking of bones into a hunched sit.