Haunted Wood the crows in the garden are laughing at my expense

the woman is upfront, which the warlord can appreciate. rather unlike the most recent joiner, she's respectful enough, and quick to prove her stills. the girl's gaze shifts to the plant the woman points out, half-hidden beneath the snow. it is wilted, dead, but in that small patch of sunlight a few daring leaves press toward the sun. 

the woman makes no immediate comment, but comes to a decision none the less. "I am Hela, and this is the Nightwalkers. fight me, prove your skills, and you will join us." the warlord steps forward, though a small dip of her muzzle invites the woman to make the first move, even while ember-lit gaze tracks her every move.