Dragoncrest Cliffs your mouth is a church and i forgot how to pray

Thuringwethil no longer sees the straggler she found in the woods nearly a year ago as he now stands as her proud Wocha. His strength had been proven time and time again and she knows her trust in him is just as solid as if he’d been born among their clan in Seageda. To hear him understand her reasoning is enough to let her guard down a fraction and return her focus away from her fault. If she knew how they'd be in two moons, then a more accurate decision could have been made but there is little to be done. She, nor the commanders that speak to her, have been certain of their future and, in fact, they've been relatively quiet since their arrival.

“I don’t know,” she muses after a long moment. She looks away to the open terrain past the border of the redwoods. Nothing gives her any answers and so she turns back toward her companion and moves if only to keep her legs and blood circulating to generate some kind of heat. “She’s unpredictable sometimes but I didn’t really expect this,” she explains. She’d stand there and wait at the borders if she had to but she knows she can’t leave her wolves any time soon with such a shaky claim. If they had still been on Sleeping Dragon, things might have been a little different but she clings to their new home more than anything.