Larksong Grotto what are we made of but hunger and rage?

Reek figured it was a safe assumption that Thuringwethil would pry further into his own reasons for worry. Responding to her questions with an brief, cursory nod, Reek shifted his rawboned frame uncomfortably before settling down to his haunches in a much more comfortable position. "I don't want war," he replied. "I want security." The last thing Reek wanted to do was entangle the entire north in a bloody, fruitless war.  Such a thing would only prove to be a detriment to both himself and the unborn children that he still strove to protect, but a collective agreement between himself and the dragon -- he felt -- could create a protective wall seperating their space in the north from Saena should she turn her aggression northward.

Of course, this was unknown to Thuringwethil.

"But staying close is my only option," he continued, gaze falling to the other leaders feet. During his meetings with Thuringwethil, Reek had always done his best to keep his personal life exactly what it was: personal. However, in this instance, Reek believed to strike a deal, she would need to know all the details that Reek kept closely guarded. "I'm going to be a father." The words tasted bittersweet on Reek's tongue. The sound, tinged with the weighted burden of loss. 

"I may have lost my life in the Maplewood, but I can't bring myself to abandon the family that remains by leaving." He shrugged. By his own admission, Reek was caught between a rock and a hard place. "So, that leaves me here... asking for your help." It was a strange thing for Reek to admit he couldn't do something on his own. So strange that it made his brow scrunch with the surprise of his own admission.