The Sentinels my soul won't take

The sunlight was pale but warm, and comforted her in ways that she had never thought about before. It was strange to miss the sunlight. Strange too, to miss the dust that floated in the beams or the shine upon the snow and ice when caught beneath them. Eigma had never been a particularly creative individual. She was mindful of the scenery only so much as a lone wolf must be; nothing held her attention more than a threatening display or the agitated rumbling of a fellow scavenger. But now, with time to sit and rest and watch, she saw the beauty here.

Not even the approach of a strange wolf detracted from her pleasant mood. Having spent a few weeks among the wolves of Donnelaith by now, Eigma could recognize a few faces - not names, there was never time nor energy for trivialities - but she recognized the gray man who settled near her. He seemed grim, casting her a few sharp looks that may have disrupted her calm had she cared enough. His question was thrown through the filter of her peaceful mind as well, and she chose to take it as a friendly query rather than the subtle reminder it could have been.

"Yes, thank you for asking." He was the first to speak to her since Lasher. She did not mind the solitude though, it was normal for her. Having company now was something of an aberration compared to her usual day-to-day activities (injured or healthy), but she was accepting of his presence all the same. "I was just going to test myself," a pause as she takes a slow breath, trying to fill her lungs as much as she could before pain settled in her ribs; it was sharp but not endless. "Do you care to... Join me?" She did not want to disrupt the pack any more than she might have already - but Eigma wanted to find something to repay Lasher. A gift of food, or of herbs, as was agreed. Perhaps being an escort would put Dante's mind at ease.