Hoshor Plains blood will spill into the gutters and it will stain the morning sun

A pale ear tipped back, listening to his questions. That was always a concern, that the wolves she invited home would find life unsatisfactory on the plateau. 

The rain fell in earnest, its icy deluge soaking her snowy coat. "Then of course you would be free to leave," the fae assured, glancing back to him as her breath swirled outwards in a pale cloud. 

"That sounds fine to me. In a moon's turn, if it seems like the plateau is not for you then we will discuss it," the sylph's head dipped subconsciously, her paws growing numb with cold as she led the way home through the snow.