Dragoncrest Cliffs Clothe yourself with all the rough alikes

In still gauging this situation and attempting to understand what had transpired between the two Drageda-born souls already, she was ready for whatever her littermate needed her to be. A firm-faced guard, another set of eyes on the situation, or a sharp pair of teeth ready to swing and charge--Opalia could believe she would serve as any, or all, should any need call for it. But, if reading his glances served her properly, now was not yet the time for more. Not this soon, anyway, and as she trusted he would, Dacio had it under wraps it seemed, so she kept to herself.

But she would be ready, if that changed. Complacency had no part here, and while she was quietly watchful, perhaps seeming pensive as she listened, she was poised in event of that need. Her opinions were well-set, and little was going to change what she thought of the deserters that had helped seal the Cliff's fate in the first place, but going forward, Opalia was not going to see her last shred of a family tie harmed by their likes again.

Dacio detailed their intentions, and a new stiffness slid up her neck as she considered newly how this would effect them in the long run they intended to make. Their goal was simple, but how to get it was not. They were going to need time, and to learn from the mistakes their pasts had granted, plus plenty else. Right now, their plans were only ideas--possibilities at best--and she did not want to share them with a traitor.