Bearclaw Valley Silence, then...

a nod. a nod. then. . .eventually a nod. Avicus doesn't know how to perceive the hesitation. her gaze is steely, sure, but has the woman ever killed before? 

only the moment of truth would tell. how soon that moment would come for the mute woman, Avicus doesn't know.

she glanced at Merrick and nodded. she has no real talent for names. all she can think is blood as she stares upon the woman's pelt—but blood is hers and hers alone. she feels oddly protective of the name, the color and taste of it.

blood-flower. hers alone.