Northstar Vale girl, with an accent of blood

praimfaya listens to all aurëwen has to say, categorizing the points she wants to make in accordance with order in which the pale slyph speaks. it doesn't seem logical to join a pack whose ideals don't match with your own. praimfaya observes clinically. by your words diaspora was only a place to be used by you to birth your children? it is how praimfaya perceives those words and they do not sit well with the young commander at all. it twists something inside her and sits ugly upon her breast. praimfaya understands that the same could be said of her own mother, pregnant with her at the time of arrival, but diaspora wasn't too terribly different than their own culture and blodreina stayed.

they did not have to take you in, praimfaya lets out an indifferent breath. they should not have. though praimfaya missed the pale sylph's children she cannot help but wonder what her mother saw in her. why she cared so much to let the hurt of her leaving fester her. as for being left again and again, praimfaya has nothing to say, aside from perhaps that it doesn't sound normal to her. ingram has never left blodreina or vice versa. to be commander is to be alone; she already knew the path she must walk on the relationship front ( not that she was particularly interested in that kind of thing at her age anyway ). i would not have joined a pack whose ideals are so different from my own and try to change them when given a little bit of power. plain and simple. maybe it wasn't as cut and dry as that but from where praimfaya stood, it sounded bad.

klir of. you made your choice. praimfaya says with a weighty sigh, muzzle lifting imperiously, frostbound silver gaze taking in the pale, scarred slyph once more. i should be getting back, praimfaya draws, and despite how differently they view things and the world speaks, i wish you good fortune, aurëwen. she offers the woman in parting before she turns and heads back towards blodreina with a quiet command in trigedasleng.