Arrow Lake you're my latest, my greatest inspiration

The word made her ears tilt not in disapproval, but in consideration; interest. The wanderer had seemed to prepared to make acquaintance and then away, but instead, stayed, and proposed a question for her. After some thought of Was Diaspora truly her settlement and Would it always be?, Aure trilled, "Yes, ze pack is mine." There was a lapse, in which it took a pause, some politeness, in case the other wished to speak.

But then, with a stuttery inhale, and then several, flustered blinks to amend her wrong: "I, ah, Diaspora is my pack, in ze sense that I am a member of it, of course. It is not mine to lead." She could feel the sting of blood at the ivory column of her throat, rushing into her scarred cheeks. So thoughtless, even when she was full of them. "Would you like to meet someone who does?" The question was practically an innocent invitation, and if the vagrant declined, then she suspected the two she-wolves would soon be on their ways.

There was truth that Aurëwen wished to lead someday, but it wouldn't be for reigning over these wanderers; the allure for height in hierarchy, she could see, but... humbly, she wasn't one to bolster and further the  ( apparant )  claim on the entire range. No, she... if she ever had the chance to rule, to preside, it would be over some stalwart territory. A fortress, her mind firmly nestled upon.