Bearclaw Valley push and pull

Words never came easy for the pale priest either; her caretaker had been wordless, her counterpart had been just as silent. Only other wolves in the pack taught her about words. Legs, among them, and, ah, what were their names... Family. A meaningful word for most mortals, but for the priest, not so much. Thief was the only one that she considered locked in her heart of her blood family. She and those who held Blackfeather Woods in her heart, for that was truly where her heart lay.

Not with the bear.

With the night mother and with Sithis. They had called her here, to Thief — ah, but what now? They were silent. She should visit to find out what they want.

The ruddy child seemed to have as hard a time with words as she did when she was young. It was no surprise, considering the similar way they grew up. A birth mother with no voice.

Fleetingly thoughts drifted towards her own birth mother, her caretaker, but soon they were back in the present.

What was she doing?

Ah, a good question, but not really one that was.. answerable, in any way.

Oh, these mortal wolves and their intricate desires to know everything.

For some time she remained silent, pale eyes staring in the direction of her companion but looking as though they were staring in a far-off distance rather than directly at her.

Thinking. It was unlike her to directly answer a question that was asked of her. Normally she would answer in riddles only, and even though she gave away little, it was more than she would normally. Especially in her present state. As if a follow-up question had already been asked, she added: Blackfeather Woods. Home. Well, no mortal place would truly be home. But Blackfeather Woods was closest to home as it could get for her.