Sleeping Dragon it exists in a finished world, beyond the reach of common sense

Lucani begins to explain her reasons for travel and she listens, carefully, as she moves. Thuringwethil coming from such a matriarchal society feels disappointment in the home her new subordinate had come from. She sees her wolves as equals, her soldiers were in all different shapes and sizes but in higher leadership, the women were the rulers. The spirit had always chosen a female and had never led her kin astray. Gyda’s home had come from a mix, currently led be her uncle. Thuringwethil left nothing to rule. 

“I think you will adapt well to my ways,” she begins, wincing as she steps on something that sends a wave up her arm. Biting through the pain, she continues: “They may be harsh, but they are fair.”

Thuringwethil takes a deep breath after a few steps, able to even out her stride so the limp is small. Lucani has gone on about her skills and she likes what she hears. It does surprise her, to a small extent, to hear about her tracking skills. She doesn’t dwell on it but keeps it in the back of her mind, stored away for another day. 

“You don’t have to be good at everything,” Thuringwethil explains. Healing and medicines had never come easy for her but she never needed it. Her guards had been specialized in more than just fighting. “A good healer and hunter will do us well.  And we can help you better your other skills.” Sleeping Dragon wouldn’t be a hungry stomach, absorbing and overworking her wolves for their advantage, for her wolves’ growth adds to the pack.

It isn't long before she spies the path she and Snacha had traveled to meet Gyda a few nights ago. She jerks her nose in direction, turning to begin the incline. "You'll meet my second tonight, Snacha. And Gyda will return from her trip in a few days."