Silver Moraine chain hits my chest

What smile she manages fades away once Magpie explains the downside of her proposal, her expression flat and her head lifting just a little higher as she considers what’s put in front of her. Most wolves at her borders, Seageda or here, devote their loyalty to the pack. Their life, that if needed, they’d spare it. Magpie only offers it temporarily and, with honesty, Thuringwethil slowly nods her head in understanding. Her own desire to travel did not reach much further than the borders of her home but some wolves, if managed by that of trade in travel, would come and go.

“I do not have room in my ranks for drifters,” she tells the older girl but with a hook in her tone, she holds onto the silence in her court. “Wolves that abandon my hierarchy are not welcomed back and are killed in their attempt.”

Thuringwethil gives the woman a moment to consider her words and whether or not she’d back out now or give heda a chance at a proposal. “You may keep my offer at a spot in my ranks if, when the time comes and you feel you are meant to leave, you come to me. I will determine then if your time and work is sufficient enough for us housing you in my home,” she warns, then continues: “because Drageda will never leave you.” You will always answer to me, she thinks, jaw clenched and brow raised.