The Heartwood No one seems to keep

Directions; many to go. North, South, East, West. But why continue to travel? Some were keen to see the world, while others traveled simply because they had nothing better to do.

Now beyond the sense annoyance, curiosity preened within her gaze. Away from the harbinger she slithered, drawing nearer the strange woman. First, she stopped to take in a waft of her scent, dedicating strictly to memory. Then she trailed around, circling, watching from all angles.

You say you will continue to travel, but your hesitance in which direction suggests you have no ultimate achievement wherever you go. Ears folding, Khasni wiggled her nostrils. Why continue? Why not settle? Was this wolf against settlement? Maybe packs weren't her thing. Saga wanted answers of all. She needed to understand this woman better, for only then would the spirits pass judgement unto the witch and finalize their decision; many options were of mind.

   One ... let this woman pass on.

   Two ... give to her a place within the heartwood.

   And three ... execute, for she has seen too much.

Ultimate judgement ranged between physical demeanor and spiritual grasp. If she had no true form that could resemble any purity or purpose, then she was nothing but a rogue soul not intended for this world. And if she were the latter, the third option seemed the most valid. But, in this case, Khasni was willing to give the benefit of the doubt. She would, however, flick a quick pass of the eye to the harbinger. Depending on which the elders decided, he would need be prepared to see the following course of action through, should she not be able to alone.