The Bracken Woods Apathy

You would have me kneel.

Thuringwethil can't help the instinctive pull that lifts her head just a little more. It's recognition enough, based in her form and words, that he knows. Heda may not be at the forefront of his mind but somewhere—it is in all wolves—he knows. His demeanor doesn't much change, either, so the silence that lingers between them doesn't give her anymore answers. His face void of expression, much like hers, and she finds an admiration she doesn't often come across.

"I would," she says with an even voice and a beat later: "Would it be so bad?" she decides, have weighing heavy on his features.