Northstar Vale The way your words hang in the moment suspended

What made it so white? The thought crossed Saena's mind as she inspected the white tree from afar, but there were no answers forthcoming. Her time as a naturalist shed no light on this mystery. What the tree had seen in its time eclipsed her lifetime a dozen times over, but it could not tell its secrets to her, a nonbeliever in the voice of trees. It could not tell of the dance between monk and dragon that was its last memory until her time in the vale began. She studied it a moment longer, then dismissed it, attention drawn elsewhere by a voice.

Saena turned to find Calliope, presumably one of Warbone's pledged or else a loner (for Saena did not know her), and her nerves fluttered up in her belly all over again. What if this one, another woman, refused to be led? But again she bit down on her uncertainty, and used it to fuel herself instead. She completed her turn until she stood head-on, squared against Calliope in a stance brimming with confidence. For the moment, she saw only grey and green, and made out little else but that the other wolf was bigger than her. She was prouder, so she believed. The nub of her missing tail rose as best it could, but of course, it could speak very little for her dominance. That was okay. Saena had done without out for a long while now. Her ears formed erect points over her crinkled brow and the wide eyes that were fixated on Calliope's face, but there was a hint of a smile, a hint of welcome, on her otherwise crimped lips as she asked, "you are?"