Bearclaw Valley dolce

Stryx had an ideology that clashed with those of Ursus. She knew that. It was obvious as soon as she crossed the threshold and became one of them; clearer still during the raid.

The battle had left the Bruin-witch with a mangled foot that the physician now inspected, but did not touch. As she moved on to other parts of his ruined face, then his body, there was ample opportunity to change her mind.

It was her vow that kept her from lashing out at the crazed man for his vendetta and it was her pride which facilitated her work now; she was a woman who put great value in to the bond she formed with her contracts, and even if that made her a pawn in someone else's war, it was part of the game.

She worked hard to keep others alive. It was her entire reason for being - and whether or not the person deserved it was beyond her.

He asked about someone called Evien. It was not a name she knew intimately, but it sounded like something she'd heard before. That wasn't enough of a hint to draw much from her - a shake of the head.

She began to clean one of the harder-to-reach wounds upon the man and otherwise remained silent, focused.