Sleeping Dragon Come away from the water

Saria listened to her heda - curious of the changes that had been mentioned. "What altercations with the other packs?" She asked curiously, her gaze trailing over the packlands and taking note of the area. She was sure in her steps, careful as she moved along with her heda and into the lands. The familiar names were comforting, and yet, Saria didn't truly care. She was not here for them. She was not there for the sake of the other wolves but for their pack, for their family. They were interchangeable, her spirit tied solely to her commander. 

She was selfish, perhaps, and yet that was the way of her world. She was wholly devoted and steadfast. She had been since youth. She was no seer, no talker of spirits or fortunes. She just knew, though, unwavering. She reached out, snout pressing briefly against the shoulder of her dark commander - and rejoiced in her quiet way at the presence of scent that to her, meant home.