Frostfire Ridge drowning in the crowd

Fire fueled gaze flickered in the direction at which the stranger gestured, coming to rest upon the towering peak in the distance, his gaze surveying it for a contemplative moment before his gaze fell back upon the other male as he began to speak. He spoke that Heda was the alpha of the mountain he had gestured to seconds before. It was curious but it did not truly surprise Semet. Thuringwethil was Heda; choosen by the spirit of the Commander to lead her people and those that would become her people. That she had started anew here was little more than what Semet would have expected from her. “Drageda,” Semet mimicked in a low, gruff murmur to himself. Yes, that sounded about right. 

A question followed, falling from the other male's lips, causing Semet's charcoal ears to cup forth, attentive. “kom seakru,” Semet explained but then offered in common tongue, “She is my Heda. I am loyal to her.” To her, and to the commander(s) that would surely come after her. This was the way of their people, this was the very foundation of their culture and Semet would not be the one to break it. Always, he was loyal to the Commander; and truly it was as simple as that.