Mudminnow River If I ever were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself.

At the mention of another who settled among her father's pack, the yearling blinked up at him with watery yellow eyes - uncertain. Ciri had seen Sagtannet's Alphess only briefly in her lifetime, for she and her sister had been sheltered on the edges of their home and robbed of the opportunity to bond among those in their pack. She knew Wylla only for the sharpness of her glare at the threshold of her father's cave, not for what she was called. With her mind and body too wearied from her trip and her grief, Ciri failed to understand who the gargoyle was talking about until he mentioned how she'd changed.

There had been only a small number of wolves among Sagtannet that'd acknowledged Ciri's existence, and not one of them outwith her own immediate circle had been positive. It occurred to her then, with the tightening of a muscle in her narrow jaw, that she hadn't even tried to learn the names of any of them.

Not entirely her fault, Ciri knew, considering her tender age, yet she felt the weight of guilt all the same.

It didn't matter, she decided. Her mother and father had both neglected to integrate Ciri and her sister, but one was gone and she grasped desperately at the chance to keep he who she had left. She would forgive them both with ease, because grudges were too heavy to bear.

"I..." a tremor to her voice, to see hope in the gargoyle's lilac stare. Elke's eyes, she acknowledged painfully, and averted her own stare as he did. Ciri inched forward once again, eager to press her smooth brow to the arch of Mahler's throat, and crooned, "I will."

Because she would gain some small part of him, and it was better than nothing at all.

"Ich werde."