Blackfeather Woods they call me

She saw his gaze shift to her stunted paw, and her jaw tightened, feeling suddenly defensive. She was of an age now where her deformity was not only noticed but resented, and although she knew others had it worse--Ramsay being the notable example--she couldn't help but envy Euron and her older siblings for their long, perfect legs, their even strides.

"I don't know," Maegi answered Kove's first question, her voice a little flat. Perhaps. She was not quick on her feet, so she'd never make a warrior. . .or a spy or hunter, for that matter. Maybe talking to the gods was all she would be good for in life. "I don't know any priestesses to teach me stuff."

Kove. His name fluttered through her mind like a leaf on the wind, and committed it to memory. "Maegi," she responded, with a small, curt bow of her head. The exuberance that had marked her early childhood was slipping away with the days gone by, being slowly replaced by a cool, calculating air that made it hard to gauge where her true emotions lie.

"I only know that part," she continued, speaking of the prayer, not her name--although perhaps both, in an unknown to her, furtive way. "Can you teach me the rest?"