Redsand Canyon She said she needs proof

dear. again, the term of endearment sets praimfaya on an edge she cannot explain. likely, she doesn't like them because she's not anyone's darling or dear. she is wanheda. she is ripa. she offers a blanched twitch of her lips that morphs into a snort of amusement when he states that he entertained the notion of her being a spy. she levels her frostbound gaze at donovan, careful not incite a challenge. i am a warrior. not a spy. even though infiltration, learning how they fought and operated was exactly why she was here, was exactly what caused her to be exiled from sagtannet. my previous pack are pacifists. i never meant to stay long anyway. a warrior needs a war, praimfaya says with a lofty shrug of her shoulders.

and hesitates. i got exiled for challenging my leader. she studies the grandmaster's face carefully for his reaction. stating such was a gamble, but then again, everything in her life was a gamble. as i said during my joining, he sent me on a task to chase a missing child that had been gone for long prior to my mission. it was a waste of my time and my talents. in a way, it hurts to talk about mahler so crassly. despite their differences and their inability, in the end, to see eye to eye there is a part of praimfaya that still respects the gargoyle. i felt his priorities did not lay where they should as a leader. if he wanted to be a father then he should've stepped down and focused on his family. i am young but i have experience in leading, she tells him matter-of-factly. i was groomed to be wanheda — commander of death — since the moment i was born. she admits, thinking briefly of blodreina and how her mother would view this all only to find that she doesn't know.

it ended with my exile. i ran into hela and she made a convincing argument. said the saints were warriors and i figured i didn't have anything to lose and that a place that suits my particular skill set might be good for me.