Gyrfalcon's Keep He walked down a busy street staring solely at his feet

In some ways, the older wolves of Sóldalr had often seemed somewhat aloof, distant, too focused on their roles within the pack to spare the youth much time aside from training and guidance. Her mother, as a shield maiden, had been much the same and had bade Thyra to be dutiful as well. Childish games and notions were only for the very young; as soon as her teeth cut through her gums, she was trained to use them. As soon as words came to her, the names of the Gods were memorized. But she yearned for the too-often spared act of kindness and fondness, but found it from Asvoria. 

It had worried her to see her packmate leave, knowing she was taking some of that kindness with her. If she remained in Sóldalr, she would be left with wolves who lost their belief, and who still seemed to focus more on their roles than their lives. 

She knew Asvoria meant to reassure her, but she was reminded of the family she had left behind, and it troubled her. She followed Asvoria, listening to her words while her own thoughts burbled just below the surface. A suitable temple, of course, would be needed. She longed to send her prayers to the Gods, so they might guide her through this time of trouble. "We will find a place," She offered, with a hopeful shrug of her dark shoulder. "It...Smells nice here, at least," She commended, hoping to stir up some hope.