The Tangle Hands to your hymnals, hell's at the door

She wouldn't have been able to guess his age before, but after he responded, she immediately knew he must be fresh from home.  It wasn't that he'd had so long away that the nostalgia faded... home was still close.  Fiercely, in that momemnt, Rosalyn was overcome with envy.  You are the leader of your tribe—but you would risk yourself?  How long had it been since she learned that to be a leader was to risk yourself?  Yourself alongside everything and everyone you cared about - sometimes simultaneously.  

I'd be no leader if I didn't.  They didn't choose this.  She answered simply.  She could have waxed on about some bullshit life lesson but he'd learn with time or he wouldn't.  Maybe, if he was smart, he'd never lead anything.  

Are you a warrior then?  She asked, trying (and failing) to hide her amusement at his optimistic interpretation of their hidden enemy.  She highly doubted, if this pack watched them - an old woman and a yearling - it was fear they felt

WC: 169