Sleeping Dragon light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out the sun

"Mm," Portia replies to the man with a slight tip of her crown, smiling sweetly at him. Thuringwethil speaks his name, and then her own, and she bows again to him. "A pleasure," she says. Although she does not yet sit, her posture indicates her wish to stay and converse-- to learn. "I apologize for any intrusion, ma'am," she then says, her attention directed at her Heda. "I'm just trying to become acquainted with everyone in the pack... did I hear mention of a another pack?" she then asks, hopeful to learn about whatever neighbors they had-- and about whoever may have betrayed them. She waits patiently to be accepted into into conversation or forced out, her posture respectfully positioned.