Blacktail Deer Plateau and break the heart in two

Her eyes narrowed perhaps a millimeter at his words, sensing there was more information behind them that he was not telling her. But for that hardly noticeable change, her expression and posture remained the same; neutral and respectful, though he was losing her respect as quickly as Peregrine had. He had not done her the courtesy of giving her his name, though she had extended hers to him. Unable to bite her tongue, his clearly guarded words not sitting well with her either, Aktaiê queried, "Who gave you that information, if you don't mind my asking? It was Junior's choice to leave; we would not harm her for it, and I would like to know if she is well. She was under my care."

The juvenile had not learned much of their secrets, nor even their traditions; the priestess cared little if she moved on, truthfully. Had Junior advanced higher in their teachings, truly pledging her life to their ways, it would have been a different story. The Nereides were not unfeeling creatures, though they were often painted that way by outsiders, and Aktaiê didn't want the death of Junior on her head — not if the rest of the wolves in this land believed her still a child incapable of making her own decisions.

As to his last statement, she told him simply, "We are blessed. Luck has nothing to do with it." It was perhaps arrogant of Aktaiê, but the way she delivered this was identical to the way she might have described the inarguable fact that the sun goes down at night.