Bearclaw Valley buffet froid

This girl reminded Stryx very much of herself, but younger. When pyre of cult worship had enflamed her back at home; that was years ago now, lifetimes beyond her. Yet here was this fire-touched girl speaking sharply to the physician of bears and respect and of all things, demanding that Stryx not be close-minded.

A taut look came across Stryx then.
I am willing to live anywhere so long as I can work.

It did not matter what they believed; they could think the bears were gods, they could think themselves walking deities, or that the trees spoke to them. It did not stop the work from being done. Stryx was as devoted to her craft as these wolves were to their own faith, it seemed.

It is my purpose to find those in need of aid, and to aid them. If I can do that here a while, I would very much appreciate the chance to. Even if it was specifically to wait out the worst of the cold to come. How will you know if I am worthy? Stryx looked from girl to grandfather and back, tired of the discussion.