Qeya River black swift

"good," she breathes, "you’d be wise to."

gjalla stirs at the mention of her hound, her eyes flicking toward him with a quickness that is almost imperceptible, but sharp all the same. she doesn't respond right away, as if trying to decide how much to give away.

she eyes him a moment longer before speaking, "you will find that your brother... is not easily understood," she begins. "not by me, not by anyone." her lip curls ever so slightly, "don't piss him off. he is brooding enough on his own, hm?"