Meadowlark Prairie Codex

there is silence; a stretch of it that feels as if it lasts forever to the tundrian before it is broken by relmyna whom asks for a name. for a brief moment, wintersbane's gaze roams, fixating upon her to assess her body language and try to discern how she feels about the stranger that he has come across before it locks back upon the man whom introduces himself.

bruges demonte.

if the sirename is supposed to mean anything to wintersbane, it does not. he seems proud enough of his family to include it, nevertheless. he, himself has no real sirename now. part of him wishes to covet ansbjørn as he once had but his children will know their grandmother through her legacy. he has one that he gave himself but has never felt the need to actually use it.

wintersbane's attention snaps back to the man as he speaks more, asking politely to hear a bit about their pack. the tundrian regards him with clinical and cool curiosity; there was no beating around the bush, was there? this type of straight-forwardness was one that wintersbane appreciated, however. he didn't enjoy dancing around in circles playing wordsmith as the true topic at hand was avoided. he remains silent, however; relmyna is the leader here. this is her domain.

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217 words