Gyrfalcon's Keep Would you just come home

"I know, right?" Wylla said with a scoff, tilting her body to rest on an angular elbow. "Seriously, this bird rides around on someone's back and gets fed with food that wolves catch. Must be a cushy life but what kind of psychos follow a bird like that?" In hindsight, the assumption that the bird was the Alpha was the only assumption that actually made sense. If it was some sort of companion or pet, it would rightly only be getting scraps from the wolves' feasts. At least, that's how Wylla would treat a dumb bird if she had one, but she didn't and never would, because birds of prey befriending wolves was, she thought, so rare it was downright mythical.

"Many pricks where you come from?" she asked conversationally, mistaking Wraen's agreement for confirmation that she had the same problem wherever she was from. Thus far, she hadn't caught the subtle scent of Hydra on the other woman, and didn't know that she came from the pack Wylla had promised to revisit and then never had.