The Tangle If you must die, remember your life

A stammered apology and the sight of Grímnismál leaving would've sufficed to smooth Wylla's feathers, but then an imposing man decided to make an appearance with a question that, while calmly stated, rumbled like thunder in the Eisen's ears. She narrowed shrewd yellow eyes on him and the ruins of his face, studying him as if looking hard enough would reveal his thoughts. Like she had with Rosalyn, she immediately jumped to the assumption that Rosencrantz was a violent wolf. No one's face would be that fucked up if they weren't asking for it.

She didn't deign to answer his question, but turned a sidelong gaze on Sagtannet's young charge. No matter how much she could twist up justifications for treating Astraeus harshly and dismissively in turns, like Mahler, she could not justify drawing him into a conflict with others. Come, Astraeus, she said briskly, pulling away and beginning a purposeful trot toward home, her tone brooking no argument. They needed to convey a sense of unity in the face of the Rusalkans to strengthen their position, and if the boy chose to undermine and disobey her here as he had on other occasions, she would not react, but would leave him alone to their mercy.

Sorry to skip, just need to start wrapping older stuff up for myself. Exit Wylla!