Sawtooth Spire sunlight

It was rare for Ikkuma to be interested in anyone beyond herself, or those she had a vested interest in. The man was curious of her scents but she did not show the same curiosity of him; what really tugged at the back of her mind was his familiar face, if only because she could not place it, and that was unnerving. They might have met in passing. Perhaps he had come to Sedge Bay while she had been aligned with them? No; he did not seem the type to disperse from whatever region he deigned to own. Another time, then. A long forgotten previous life. It didn't really matter.

When he had finished with his inspection he finally spoke, and while Ikkuma's ears pivoted with attentive focus, she remained bowed to him with submissive posture. From his admission this place had a name and was held by a worthy trio of wolves; Ikkuma wanted to test that claim, but knew it was not the time to do so. He called her a thrall - not a term she was accustomed to - but Ikkuma presumed it was somewhere on the lower-end of the food chain, which was to be expected.

Ikkuma, thrall of Sagtannet. It didn't have the best ring to it, but if she were to challenge herself against this mountain she would need to start somewhere. I accept. She responds. I am Ikkuma. Her posture slackens a bit when she speaks, prideful of herself. The dance is over, and now she can start fresh.