Blacktail Deer Plateau Bite my tongue,

the seer. a name not unlike his nightwife's taken one.

harder and harder it becomes to suppress the want to shiver at the eerie similarities that ingram draws. strings that he wishes his mind does not weave into webs. for a wild moment, though he absorbs the seer's words, he wonders if the voidwraiths are playing a cruel trick upon him.

but ash paw speaks, dispelling that hopeful illusion. his mage speaks in favor of the seer, that she helped to gather flora that she needed ...which backed up the seer's own proclamations of her knowledge.

a small, contemplative noise lingers in ingram's throat; seaglass gaze assessing as he mentally considers the options. for the winter has not gone unheard by the dreadfather. immediately, he dislikes the thought that she would use basilica to keep herself alive during the harshest months and then leave them ...but he's placed a failsafe in the ranks for reasons similar.

you may stay for the winter, ingram begins, offering a small pause before the conditions would come into play. so long as you contribute while you are here and you must know that so long as you plan to only stay with us to weather the harshest months that you will not be able to rise above the entry rank of acolyte. that honor was for the wolves who intended to stay.

so long as you agree to these conditions, you are welcome.