Swiftcurrent Creek unmake the wild light

She speaks of her focus, and Vehiron is all too enthusiastic to get her to Tonravik's doorstep right away. There was something to Amekaze that clicked with him – something that made the woman different (and more appealing) from some common damsel. It was this something that made him think she would get ahead under Tartok's flag. Perhaps he was jumping to conclusions, yet he was willing to give Amekaze the option to join under Tartok's rule, to grow as a wolf, to survive. She wanted a cause, so what cause worthier than strength?             “I smell of home.” He met her verdant stare with allurement, his emphasis adding to it, as he invited her to look where he did: Silvertip Mountain. His message was clear: that is my home. Vehiron said nothing for a beat before he turned his attention back to her. Sunlight leaked through the trees and bespattered their furs with golden patterns...patterns that, oddly enough, resembled blood. How quaint, yet also fitting.             “Is strength a meriting cause?” He need not hear any more beyond a 'yes' or 'no.' And if she was courageous enough to dabble in the 'maybe,' he would not say anything about Tartok. He was not going to anyway, but an unequivocal response could influence him...