Bearclaw Valley it was all right with me

Sif uttered something like you're welcome, but wasn't sure she'd spoken the common tongue or something else. There was a chance she'd just made a random sound, so great was her enthusiasm. These wolves were very different from being with Fen, who had seemed to do little more than tolerate her on most days, and not even that on some.

There had been times, of course, when Fen would begin to talk about the past or traditions or battle, and Sif would sit very still and quiet and it would be good. But those had been few and far between, and though she choose to remember him by those times rather than the rest, it was still a very different experience than the one she was having with Indra.

This was, in part, because she felt a bit like she was taking care of Indra when she had always been taken care of and ruled over by Fen. She'd been protective of him, of course, but it was nothing like the solemn duty she felt toward the injured woman that laid nearby. She was small, and Fen had been anything but.

Sif laid down within sight of the red girl and kept watch.