Permafrost Hollows my bones do not taste of crown and silver

No details would be shared before her, and she did not begrudge them this. The information shared was likely not pertinent for her to know as a guest; where it something that involved the welfare of all those Thuringwethil kept, even those she hosted, she was sure it would at some later date be disclosed. If she was disappointed that nothing would be entrusted to her, it did not show; among Drageda she had no role, and nothing expected of her except perhaps that she carry her weight and not be a useless glutton. That was not her way; Sangilak was a creature who consistently needed to be doing something of use. 

She had learned something new regardless. Reek had settled within a grotto. Who was Reek to Thuringwethil?  Her eyes drifted to the wolf called Commander, then to Warbone, and back to Thuringwethil again. Reek, she rumbled, her voice gruff and deep, An ally? Or enemy? Sangilak asked only the minimum detail, wanting to know what it was she ought to expect from Thuringwethil's return. While she had been taught to be prepared and ready for anything, always, Sangilak had enough of her father in her to—in matters of blood and war—think ahead from time to time. Leadership often met with the enemy; were often requested, too, by them, to be ambushed.