Dragoncrest Cliffs don't carry nothing but the righteous and the holy

Thuringwethil’s jaw sets as he explains why they’d come to her borders. Another pack settling close to them (sort of) and for a long moment she doesn’t say anything. She looks past him, assuming the way they’d come from and she tries to remap what she’d once been familiar with. The rise is far enough that she is not terribly concerned and they seem to be farther than that and with a content huff of air, she looks back to the pair. “All right,” she says. “What is the name of your pack?” she asks a beat later, unaware they’ve already introduced themselves.