Qeya River Those who are about to die will say anything.

What next.

This was an important question. Something that had no answer yet. She could linger here on the outskirts, make a name for herself - her own clan, maybe - and try to move on. She could ignore the need for companionship and simply live a rogue lifestyle, hell-bent on finding those that wronged her. There were many avenues which Radova's path could travel, but none that seemed right.

And here before her, a woman of fortitude. Someone she distrusted on behalf of her brothers' lost spirits, but felt vague connections to - they were of the same people, in a way. Having lost her home in Azgeda, it would be foolish to let this opportunity slip from her grasp. Even if Radova's natural state was to distrust those not of the ice-born, she was no longer Azgeda herself. The woman had lost that connection when she had lost her brothers.

The woman breathed a deep sigh of her own. Her breath, billowing like a plume of smoke from the snout of a dragon, mixed with that of Thuringwethil.

"I will wait." For Thuringwethil to turn her back, show her true colors - or for those loyal to the woman to show themselves. She does not trust the heda or her claims. There is nothing to prove that this dark woman spoke truth; she could have been trying to manipulate, as was the Seageda way. "If your wolves of Seageda return to you, they will meet my teeth."