Dragoncrest Cliffs well every lord i pray doesn’t sound the same,

Even these words, and few and simple as they were, flew over Isleña’s head faster than she could ever try to catch them. There was only one word she knew, weak, and the girl held onto it with all she knew despite having no context. The banshee sat there grinning, not interested in letting her excitement over her previous understanding fade, and nodded her head as Aure spoke as if she was in complete agreement. Weak? Isleña was almost positive that the Skayona wasn’t talking about her so yeah, sure, whatever!

When it was clear that Aure was finished, Isleña parroted the “O-okay,” and scooted her hiney closer, tail dusting the area of ground behind her with its constant movement. Isleña was eager, but for what, she didn’t really know. There was another words that sounded as if it was in their guttural language, that felt close to her own mother tongue, and Isleña wanted to speak it despite having no reason to.

“Drakru — fight?” she queried, giving the word some meaning so that she wasn’t simply spitting out pointless words like a child. It was also a very valid question; Isleña knew that these were warriors simply by the energy and stature of the wolves that lived within, but beyond that, the banshee had no confirmation of such a thing. Such a thing was important to Isleña, if she were to make Drageda her home and devote her loyalties, which were worth their weight in gold, to them.

Isleña tightened her gaze and stuck her nose out closer, noticing the scarring of Aure’s beautiful face for the first time. “You… fight…” she said solemnly, suspecting this wasn’t true of the gentle woman. Someone had done this to her.