Hideaway Strath blueblood

the woman that came upon her was gigantic, a driving snowstorm. teya reacted in kind, ears falling back along her smaller skull, offering a tentative wag of her tail.
was this his wife?
she was cut from the same cloth as kynareth, this nyra. overseer. co-leader. her tongue began to tangle; she could feel it happening, and felt horror start to well behind the composure of her youthful face. 
but suddenly he was between them, purring a mediation, gracing her with a private look —
his face! laid open in what seemed like a dozen ways, in varied stages of healing; kynareth, still glinting with promise beneath the slashes that had cut even his mouth;
fear, now. who could harm such a powerful man? teya felt suddenly as though she was drowning;
out of her depth, over her head; who were these saints?
"yes," she said, belatedly, grateful for the air still inhaled into her body. features carefully arranged, desperation at the root of her admirable control. "kynareth speak of alliance to me," to nyra now, with a smile she hoped would be disarming.
terrified now, that she had not come to offer the redhawks upon a silver plate. "i think best if brecheliant stay neutral." they were warriors. her pack possessed the most skilled healer in two lands, teya firmly believed. "you fight. we mend. no questions."
there now, wouldn't @Bridget like that? since she was able to stay so objective, and everything.
the little raven smouldered.
"kynareth tell brecheliant leaders that saints have many medics."
teya was speaking to nyra again, determined not to let a glimmer of her true feeling for the man to show! not now —!
"brecheliant allied with many packs. access to more. i not be spy. but maybe i not see all what saints do."