Nova Peak Skeptic

She took a seat next to him, her firelight gaze following his own golden one out to the lands below them. Rusalka—she knew the name well. The word brought a long buried anger from deep within her chest, and she clenched her jaw against it. Surely that black-faced bitch wasn't still alive. But if she was, would that change things for her now? She knew her niece and nephew were fine now, but the evil woman had soured them against their own family—told them lies when they were children that were hard for her to disprove now that they were well into adulthood. So many other things mattered more to her now than that revenge that once burned so fiercely within her. He named their scarred leader, but she had never heard the name, not that it would have mattered; she never knew the black-faced woman's name anyway. She was unsure why he felt the need to tell her their leader was gay, but it was beside the point. She had questions, but she put a pin in them and let him finish speaking. 

She let him continue, and he informed her that this Rosalyn had claimed that she wanted peace. What was even more surprising was that she claimed the same attackers that took Wylla's eye also gave her the scars that covered her body. It all seemed very convenient, for sure, and without knowing anyone in that pack, she was hesitant to take them at their word. What if what they wanted was for Sagtannet to become complacent so that they could have the element of surprise. On the other hand, she trusted both Eisens, and Wylla at least seemed to think these wolves were a threat. But she trusted Taikon, too, so much that it made her a little nervous that she was lowering her guard too soon. So many times in her past, she had trusted and been loyal, only to be hurt by it in the end. She was conflicted, and it surely showed in the frown on her face. 

But he wasn't even finished. He learned that apparently, this Rosalyn had told Mahler and Wylla that their intentions were peaceful, which was conveniently left out at the pack meeting. Was it intentional? or did they assume no one would trust that Rusalka was true to their word. It was hard for her to know now that she was finding out after the fact. It was then that she turned to meet Taikon's gaze. If I confront Mahler about that, I know what he will say, she told him first. He will say that he does not trust their word and so it does not matter if they claim to be peaceful. She still might confront him anyway—ask him why they were not informed of everything. If Wylla was demanding they go to war, didn't they deserve to know all the information? And I don't know if I can trust their word either, Taikon. She looked away. How are we supposed to know if they really mean us no harm; we have no real proof either way, and it is hard for me to know if Wylla's decision is misguided. She shook her head as anger had her tightening her jaw again. I have run into problems with Rusalka before. She looked to him again. The black-faced leader found my niece and nephew after my family was all separated by a storm. When I found them with Rusalka, she refused to give them back to me. Her expression turned fierce and violent. Do you know if this woman still makes their decisions? I don't know her name, just that her head and face were black.