The Heartwood Saga of the Old Ones

The dark woman leaned inward, head cocked slightly as she listened to the tale told. Norse history was never an interest she'd held. Perhaps if it had been, she would have been more attentive to that bit.. but instead, her ears were fixated upon the title that escaped the pale woman's tongue.

And if I become this völva? Was there more to know? More to expect?

Perhaps even before her query could be answered, Khasni cut the silence short, following with a few standards of her own.

You must understand a few things, before I come to any decision. I am not the most social wolf you will ever meet. My purpose is to hear the words the elder spirits share.. and with these words, I converse with whomever the words are intended for. Should that be you, then you will be the only I share tongues. But when not doing so, I require peace, silence, and a protected space to meditate and listen. The great elders will not speak if I am not alone. This is their way, as is it mine.

Call it a dull life, but it was hers. If this woman could not accept such, then the land of the white warrior was no place for the saga.