Redhawk Caldera I'm wide-eyed, and it's midnight

She smiled warmly as Shrike complemented her, dismissing it with a small shake of her head. "No, I was not acting brave...others have tried to speak out like I did but they only failed. I was not killed for it because my father would not dare kill me, no matter how mean he was" she admitted. She had always felt as if she had had the unfair upper hand in her former pack. Still, deep down, his soft-spoken complement did make her happy. He spoke again, and she smiled again. "I am very glad you think that way," she said. "Many others would gladly have them. All the work is done for you when you have þræll," she explained, wrinkling her nose in dissaproval. "It is horrible and wrong."

The conversation changed as he brought up Mordur, a slight pang in her stomach reminding her that she did not know the answer to his question. "He is somewhere...." Sasha trailed off. "But he is OK, I know he is. He wanted to be free from me, so I granted that to him. He is somewhere, happy," she spoke not only to convince Shrike, but almost as if to convince herself as well.