Dragoncrest Cliffs If only I can be remembered

The pale wolf speaks for the both of them, introducing who they are and why they’re here but there is little to it. There isn’t another reason a half-dead wolf and her companion would be at her borders—at least realistically—and Thuringwethil gives them one not that she hears and understands them. She looks at the one named Kendra a moment longer as if she might say something, or tell her story, but she does not and further buries into Xan. She isn’t so sure what work she can manage for them in her condition, and their weather. She’d given Rosalyn a place to stay and recover in exchange and while the woman had carried her weight, she had not remained.

“There is space if you are loyal,” she tells them, “and with contribution.” He has not announced what their capabilities may consist of but their time will be limited if nothing is shown. “Is she ill?” she asks with one of her own reservations about the whole thing. Having been uprooted in a new place and the snow blanketing the ground, there is little they have to offer that isn’t for their own. Their supplies are limited and caches are few and far between with the upset but the status is mostly unknown. Thuringwethil lifts her nose and calls for @Portia before she turns her attention back for answers.