Emberwood Hearth

The female spoke and talked. A lot. Citali listened with faint interest until she was uncertain as to whether or not she could remember half of what she'd been told. It sounded like there was quite of bit of work done there on account of wolves who'd already passed. What she described as "speaking" seemed to her more like "lingering." She didn't understand it it in the least, but she could try to be respectful of another female's traditions.

"Well, it certainly sounds like a very important role." Frivolous, but to each their own. It made this female sound important in her own eyes, which was find and dandy. For herself? Citali tended wounds. She did her best to prevent death, but if they passed, dead was dead. There was nothing more she or anyone else could do except move on and quickly. There were always more ailments to tend.

Her eyes drifted, falling to the marks on her eyes once more. They held new meaning now, even if she didn't fully understand it, or want to fully understand it. "I'm sure someone will find it a useful skill," she further emphasized, separating herself from the conversation. It wasn't a talent she found handy, but to each their own. "There has to be a pack around here somewhere that would find some benefit in it."