Silver Moraine chain hits my chest

She was quiet for a moment, after the invitation came— there was risk in this, promising something she was unsure she would be able to truly commit to. It wasn't her way; Magpie's only true commitment was to herself, and it had always been so. Her heart traveled as much as her physical body did, and as much as she was beginning to crave a pack and family of her own, it seemed that this would always be so. It was a song and fire in her blood; and that was the source of her internal conflict. But there was also risk in allowing the opportunity to pass, for she may not live long enough on her own to create the life she so ambitiously wanted for herself.

It seemed only fair that she responded honestly, for if it were Magpie at the helm, she would expect no less from her followers. In her youth, broken promises were left in her wake— but she had learned that her word could still be trusted and true, if only she were also honest with herself. "I would love to learn, Thuringwethil," she responded, slowly and carefully so as to pronounce the woman's name correctly. "But I am a drifter; it's my blood. I can't promise my life eternal to you, but I'll be loyal to Sleeping Dragon for as long as I belong to it."