Bitterroot Valley mary, mary, quite contrary

Thuringwethil struggles to keep a grimace from her face as Freyja backs down. Nothing terrible occurred this time, but what if she hadn't been here at all? They didn't know what kind of wolf the other is or what harm he could have been capable of. "Good," she says with relief but stiffens her neck as she takes a few steps and ushes her forward. "Come," she instructs quietly, leading her back to their densite.