And when I touched her skin, my fingers ran with blood

He asked an important question, one that would shift the tone of their conversation when they answered. Both sides were reserved in the amount of information they gave but even that spoke volumes for the mostly quiet quartet. Were they relatives or relatives? Only their answer would reveal this, as the ways of Tartok were such that specific answers were warranted when certain questions were asked. We can, we will was certainly the most notable but the strong survive was just as important for the wolves of the North.

She met Iqniq's glance but let her attention focus on the others again, waiting. She noticed the male's silence but thought nothing of it. Some wolves were good with words, and some preferred not to talk, and that was fine. She could be talkative, but others had to earn it first. It was their body language she was watching, waiting to see if they would prove themselves worthy of even full-fledged conversation instead of this vague and elusive stuff.