the way that it shines may just dwindle with time

He looked confused for a moment, and briefly Caiaphas wondered if the dialect her family had spoken was different than this wolf's own: the vernacular often varied from tribe to tribe and it was not uncommon for some words to take on separate meanings than their original intendment. Idly she stepped away from him, one ripped ear flicked back to indicate she was still listening and had no intention of being rude. She dropped her thin muzzle and shook her entire frame - sending a myriad of glittering droplets back into the ocean in which they originated. Satisfied and somewhat less sodden, she pivoted and turned back to the stalwart looking Jarl. His inquiry elicited a wry smile: it was neither genuine nor truthful. Sardonically, she dipped her head in indication she well-aware of the culture in which he spoke. She presumed he would like an explanation; and drawing a lengthy sigh, the needly creature spoke. "Varkentje is my name, though my blood is Eyjolfur. My father traveled with a raven named Huginn.." She flicked her tail at the admission, a dark scowl gathering across her already cross countenance. "It was my mother that taught me what I know, what little I know." She could have gone into explanation further, but unless he asked her directly, she had no wish to dredge up what was thankfully the past. He asked her if she was looking for a pack -- coyfully, the brazen thing stepped right alongside him with a dangerously flirty smile. "Is that an invitation?"