Ankyra Sound make a den, build a fire; later, the smoke will taste like plums

she kept her gaze iron-fisted and cold upon sirio; his knowledge of the war that raged in blackfeather -- a surprise to her -- did not have any affect on the sterness of her gaze. she heaved a sigh, feeling resentful of her newfound eminence. sirio's knowledge of their proposed enemy would have to be tested another time -- she could not afford to appear too eager to learn of his secrets -- lest he think himself far more valuable than he was.

the waif readied herself to leave, cutting him one last glance before she spoke. "i've stood against plenty of armies." she replied clinically, if a bit cryptically -- "but if you want to prove your worth, you'll have to try a lot harder than that. i'll let you figure out how."

whatever she meant, it was impossible to scrutinize from her gaze -- and she did not wait for a response before she turned her back boldly to him and stalked for the grotto's heart.