Kildeer Rest a dead man's tale

There isn’t much reaction from the stranger but a swing of his head, further revealing the extent of his features. She looks over the grizzled face, missing eye and all, and reads the stories he has yet to tell. Curiousness leaves her passive as he speaks, an indifferent shrug of her shoulder to his question, but she doesn’t answer right away. He doesn’t offer the worth she’d been born with, her youth often a fault against her once upon a time, but her claim has been nothing but strength since and her devoted followers are there to prove.

Where her body has an age, and an expiration, Heda simple was, is, and will continue on. A vessel to lead her wolves, the youngest to have led, and still continues to do so.

“Not enough to be a threat, but enough to warrant curiosity,” she explains. It is not often she finds wolves in these parts that are simply passing through. Their claim by only be on the mountain but these lands have become theirs with an eye on every inch. “It is not common to find others not our own here,” she adds with a catlike twitch of her flagged tail.