Dragoncrest Cliffs bloodmother

"Dis be news to me," Chacal intoned, her light voice musical but optimistic. The pack mentioned had not come to Sapphique, and word of it had not travelled in their direction either. Another pack looking to cooperate for large, winter hunts was perfectly acceptable, especially if they were willing to rotate their hunting grounds regularly so that one area did not end up being exhausted. They had their ties to the Rise, of course- but she looked forward to a bountiful winter should they have this many wolves willing to hunt with them.

The prospect of a large pack hunt earned a nod from Chacal. Mireille communicated more effectively with outsiders, considering the fact that she could speak without singing, and so she nodded, thumping her tail in agreement.

Grief was something the wolves of Sapphique knew well, and Chacal gasped softly at the mention of a daughter lost during childbirth. She too wished that the Moonwolves would take something back with them. Food could not ease grief, but nourishing the body was an important part of nourishing the soul. She wondered about the children, but thought it best not to ask.

The man had looked to little Tousaint, smilingly. Chacal blinked, but her gaze was amused.

She returned her gaze to Heph, wondering what she might have to say of the wolves of Hljodrfell.