Dawnlark Plains From the scars on my arms

i know, she smiled, then, at the stranger's audaciousness. her honesty that some may consider brutal. her curtness. rala raised a brow of her own, tilting her head with an edge that could almost be humour. my words were supposed to distract from pain.

and she asked, then, if she had come from a pack in the area. no, rala replied. i have yet to meet pack wolves. i come from much, much further up north, where all was cold, sheeted in thick, crunching snow, and the seas were black and raging. so far, snowwoman was enjoying these lands considerably more than she had her homeland.

and you? she asked. from around here, eh, stranger?