Ankyra Sound I cut my hand upon my blade

This thing I have is my life, she shared with a glare. Was Rosalyn making fun of her now? Maybe the bitch did remember and was playing stupid so she could have her kicks. Even if Rosalyn's pack housed the best healer in all the land, Wylla would never ask them for help. She could never trust any wolf that took up residence at Drageda's old stead, and with their rocky history, she suspected they would sooner poison Mahler than heal him.

This whole interaction had done nothing but put a sour taste in Wylla's mouth. Caiaphas was dead. Her worthless children were dead. And so was Wylla's hope of utilizing the sea witch's secret to a long life despite all the odds. She wanted to spit at Rosalyn about how her pack was worth less than gull shit to her, but there was no point. For once, the enjoyment of pissing someone else off wasn't enough.

So with a last withering look, Wylla turned down the coast and left Ankyra Sound. It was likely the last time she would ever come here.