Bearclaw Valley devotion

Perhaps it was not very hard to sneak up on the priest when she was in her hazed state, captivated by the spirits, or perhaps Aventus was truly getting good at sneaking; whatever the case, the ghost did not notice his approach and before she knew it, the herbs were knocked off the altar. Not by the force of a wolf; by the force of the intestines as they went flying. At first the priest wondered if the spirits did not like her offerings, but soon she realised what was happening as she laid eyes on the sneaky culprit -- one of her counterpart's spiderlings.

Although she was lithe and fast and would likely be able to catch up with him or perhaps even snatch him as he first ran off, she did not. There was something funny about the way he twisted, expecting her to do what any other wolf would've done. Not strange, perhaps, but she liked it. She liked that she could make others dance without asking them to. The priest did not try to grab him, the prize he took or give chase; she merely said as he started to run off, her voice calm and collected with an edge of playful amusement to it: I am not sure taking that is worth the price Sithis will ask for it.