Dragoncrest Cliffs i make boys cry

Blixen is eager to follow. Teaching her child feels different than teaching the others. Freyja had once been her student, learning the ways of Drageda to one day hold a highly esteemed ranked. She’d gotten distracted by the world outside of their claim and ever since, she’d never found where she’d failed in raising the girl. Perhaps Gyda’s influence had been too much to grant her a title such as fleimkepa that, later, was held by Eske albeit temporarily. The warrior child has grown, putting her blood and heart and soul into Drageda and she can see it in Blixen’s eyes. They’ve always been made of warriors, first and foremost, and the hungry rests behind the girl that looks so much like her mother.

“There is a lot more to your training than just fighting and sparring. Training involves your mind just as much as it does your body,” she tells the girl as they continue to move, well past the clearing near the lake and into the trees. Further south the ground slopes where it will eventually meet the sound and trees frequently interrupt and semblance of a clearing. “When you are fighting another wolf, you have to be able to handle your surroundings. Your home will always give you the advantage but you will not always likely fight here. This morning, you will first try to catch me.” Her voice ends with a quirk and she arches her brow once, glancing off in one direction but she darts the opposite and disappears through the network of trees.