Blackfeather Woods A new face

Abelinda rose a brow at his words. "A pack can use more then just three, but if you desire for me to do something else, very well then." Thus she stopped her digging and pulled her self out of that den. Those ghostly gaze shifted to the male, "If a healer is not needed, then what does the pack lack?" A hunter she could be, but far as a warrior or warden, that would be a new niche for her to fill. One she would have to  train in and better her self at. Those eyes blinked as the wraith debated, wondering just what trades he was seeking, but whatever he named she would be sure fill such a niche they were lacking altogether.


At his words however, a brow rose in question. "Age or illness could be a cause." She spoke lightly but carefully as well, knowing as one got older they were more susceptible to illnesses. The immune system simply wasn't what it was before and grew weaker after years of wear and tare. Some were luckily to never have to worry over such a thing, simply their immune system were surprisingly strong for their later age.