Sawtooth Spire though i have closed myself as fingers

One mulish ear flicked back to mark Stag's approach, but her eyes remained wary on their visitor. She was a pretty little thing with a woodsy, floral scent to her, but Wylla's ability to appreciate loveliness like that had died long ago. Possibly in the womb, along with the majority of her empathy and good will. Eleuthera could've conducted herself with the utmost care and respect upon the borders and Wylla would remain suspicious of her motives—it was simply what she did.

There was just no pleasing Wylla, although Eleuthera took many more steps toward it than most did. The Eisen relaxed a little as a result of that. It didn't entirely excuse the abrupt summons, but thankfully, the woman was quick to both apologize for and explain that.

A band of unruly rogues, settling practically right next door? Wylla had always been a territorial wolf, but that territoriality extended only to her own territory, usually. If not for Eleuthera mentioning that their new neighbours were potentially dangerous, she might've thought the whole thing was pointless. Generally speaking, she was content to ignore the existence of others as long as they didn't bother her, but with Thade still missing and Phaedra making herself more and more scarce, dangerous neighbours was the last thing they needed.

What do you want in return for this information? she asked gruffly, sliding her gaze briefly back to Stag. There was always a catch. Wylla no longer believed in good deeds. She didn't believe Eleuthera would come all this way, allegedly from the far north, to warn them of this if she wasn't expecting an exchange of some kind.