Sea Lion Shores the halls of our fathers

Once, her lack of piety concerned her. It hadn't felt right to worship, but she knew that her father had done so with fervor. Or, rather, she imagined he had. All of her information about him was second hand, gleaned from wolves who had known him briefly. For a time she had been troubled, for she couldn't find it in her heart to worship Odinn nor any other god of any other pantheon. Yet as with all things, she had found peace eventually.

Szymon expressed sincere concern for her, and Ragna was touched. Though he just as easily could have perceived her as an enemy to his brother and his pack, she was glad that they could speak civilly. She, too, could have regarded him as an enemy, but in her mind she held him blameless for the usurpation of her homeland. I am not alone, she told him. At the very least she had the Malkaria. I have allies. Family. My brothers live in these wilds still. Did they, though?