Barrow Fields i am fire bleeding smoke

the siren queen's gaze never stilled. it flitted from wolf to non-wolf, and back again. mistrustful, calculating, cold. she could have been fearful, particularly in light of recent events -- but she was not, and a stony expression implacably passed her thin features.

the non-wolf's tentative speech, no doubt to thrust through the terse ice, and his subsequent posing allowed caiaphas the slightest of comforts. yet the wolf that had first spoken presently had most of her attention for now, simply by virtue of not being from the coast. she shifted her front limbs, russet ears tipped back as she spoke. "if he is not from the coast, why is he here?"