Sawtooth Spire I bow to no law made by men who never bore a child.

It seemed only fitting to present such an opportunity to the wolf who'd supported her so willingly through pregnancy and delivery, and long before that. Nyx spotted that glow in Mahler's eyes as he cast his cool gaze downward toward the youngsters they'd created together to consider, and Nyx' tail thumped the ground in excited anticipation to hear his decision.

Elke, he said. Of his mother tongue, the lioness felt safe to assume, and she thought to test it for herself: "Elke." Bright eyes sought the palest of her children, a sore reminder of the boy who lived, but she chose not to dwell on that miserable snippet of her past - no matter how it speared her mother's heart. That cub had been born to a younger she-wolf, tainted by inexperience and an unsound mind. He'd been better off without her. "I like it."

She arched a brow as she turned attention to the gargoyle once more, and smirked in amusement. "Unless it means 'dirt' or 'rock', then I take that back," Nyx laughed softly, a playful tease as she thought back to their last discussion on naming pups.