Bramblepoint behind her tired eyes

i don't, praimfaya replies to his question, adding a few seconds later. at least not yet. she adds with a small smile. he knew her name but she knew not even his own; but she was to ever see roangeda come to fruition she had to take chances. she speaks of roangeda, that she thinks upon first impression, upon initial assessment that he might be a fit to judge if there is any potential — slim or otherwise — of interest. if she cannot see a even a sliver of it then she would see no need to continue to speak of it ...but still he does not turn away, does not flee.

praimfaya takes that as a good sign.

the low sting from small wound the thorn inflicted has begun to ebb in the wake of her conversation as she adjusts her focus to the stranger and her seized opportunity. roangeda was not yet established, still yet a fledgling and hedging this was all apart of the job as far as she's concerned. times are harsh with the wilds in upheaval, the earthquakes have spooked their herds and though she hates the tremors that have killed her mother, that put roangeda's survival in jeopardy she cannot deny that this and the coming winter lend her a unique opportunity. and winter soon upon us. while it is true that she has yet to experience winter, praimfaya takes the words of those she chooses to consult for counsel on such matters to heart.

roangeda is a pack of strength, of tight-knit kru — she pauses here briefly to quickly offer the common translation, — of family where we can build our own traditions. roangeda would not be for all, this praimfaya knows but even a failed recruitment means that she can say that she has at least tried, and beyond that hadn't blodreina and linkoln both told her that failure should be seen as a stepping stone to improvement?