Sleeping Dragon you look like the rest of my life

A flash of a scowl crosses her features when Wildfire tells her she hadn't sought out their healer. While Portia didn't bare the title necessarily, she knew of herbs well enough and the use of their functions to act as one in the absence of others. Whether or not Gluskap will return to Drageda is left to be seen, they are able to hold their own while he's gone. Thuringwethil almost insists she goes to see her now, setting the ritual aside, but she's asked of what she has and she turns to look at the little gathering. She takes a quick inventory again, knowing nothing would be missing, but she refocuses on the purpose of calling the girl to her.

"Things will be changing soon and I need something from you," she says, swinging her head back around. "We carry the dead with us that we are responsible for," she explains. While the heda is responsible for ever death her wolves make, she cannot bear all their markings, and follows the tradition for those she is directly involved in. "The scars on my shoulder symbolize the ones I have taken. Typically, the ritual would be preformed in front of the clan and," she pauses, knowing they really hadn't talked much about what happened on the borders some time ago. "I will be marked of the loner's death in front of our wolves but there are some unaccounted for, when my former home disbanded. These wolves, except for Gavriel and Rebekka, are not apart of my former home and this is something I should do on my own."

While she can't exactly do it on her home, she takes a step closer to nudge Wildfire's nose, wondering if she'd be up for the task. She's take to their ways well enough but knows there is plenty she has to still learn.

"You are the closest one to me, the one I want to do the honors. It will finally put Seageda to rest and we can go forward." Thuringwethil takes a deep breath as she falls silent, looking upon her love with tenderness.