Gyrfalcon's Keep Good Fences Make Good Neighbors

Solveig’s gaze was steady and calm. The stranger’s demeanour was tepid, a reflection of her own. And while Solveig naturally sized strangers up so she might pick out their weakness should a fight erupt, she was nevertheless grateful when visitors chose benevolence instead.

She found the woman to be a bit long-winded. Perhaps the role of being an ambassador was new to her, she thought. She had been thoughtful enough to bring a gift, though it was not one Solveig might have prized. Raccoons weren’t typically food- they ate such a variety of things that their meat tasted a bit gamey- but she thought her daughter might make use of its healthy pelt. Solveig would not dishonour the visitor’s intentions by denying the gift. 

Heph’s intentions were good. And if the rest of the wolves of Moontide were like her, then she couldn’t imagine why the relationship would be scorned. 

She sat down, and nodded; willing then to entertain the idea with a bit of discussion.

”I am Solveig; this is Hljódrfell.” She stated, using Heph’s language, which seemed to be the most common in these parts. ”Tell me more about Moontide, please?”