Shadewood and if i go far away i know you'll find another slave

caiaphas supposed there was little harm in revealing her intentions here -- for one, the old hag was a Strong Independent Woman, and for two, she could just as quickly rip the throat out of any wolf that crossed her - or so, she thought. thinking of such violence delighted her, in an odd way -- but her eyes remained flat, and spoke nothing of the black thoughts that milled behind her sharply cruel face.

"i am from there -" she pointed with a paw to the ugly plateau, which sat frowning over the shadewood the way natural formations often did. "we are called the redhawks." we. well - caiaphas didn't consider herself a redhawk anymore than the redhawks considered themselves an eyjolfur - she had assimilated well into their lives, and they had accepted her with more grace than she would have accepted an outsider, but still, that is exactly what she was: an outsider.

"i was looking for fire; you wouldn't miss her, she's red --" and not at all inconspicuous, caiaphas thought wryly. perhaps a bit belatedly it occurred to the siren queen that maybe, fire's disappearance was not a casual jaunt - the prospect of her being whisked away, killed, mauled, whatever, was very real.

the only question was, who?