Permafrost Hollows my bones do not taste of crown and silver

The gap of time without Sangilak by her side didn’t go unnoticed and she turns her head slightly to peer into her peripheral in time to see her pick up her stride once more. Thuringwethil doesn’t slow and gives her a chance to come into step once more next to her. Slate grey eyes shift back in front of her, eyes wide to absorb what night around her will offer. The shadows cloaking her do well to hide and she enjoys the territory near her home so much that she desire to take it for herself. 

Sangilak’s devotion causes her to nod her head and a hint of a smile forms, but hidden by the darkness around her. She doesn’t expect Reek to be a problem and what she might find in the grotto in the next two days would be something she would worry about her way to visit.

“A spot can be here for you and yours, should you decide,” she offers, even if Sangilak’s words sound prosperous. She may want more than Drageda can give her, more than Thuringwethil can, but if Heda can use her now for the benefit of her wolves, she would. The dark wolf is young—perhaps younger than she is—but strong, ambitious. A great asset to Sleeping Dragon and soaking her in the culture of Drageda could leave a lasting impression, perhaps, that would give them both benefits later in life.