Bearclaw Valley and was buried in a tomb

her husband signs of his brother, and a pack in the wilds called darukaal and that it was their home, made of norsemen. her husband's culture. she herself had been raised relatively secular, holding no religion nor any sort of true culture. some traditions, yes ... but nothing that held her back from converting.

when he is finished, her gaze moves to his face; studying it, noting the hesitance that she finds there. maybe fear, even. which is a perplexing thing to her; drawing a soft furrow of her brow.

was he afraid she would object...? she wonders.

-i will go where ever you go, tvar,- she signs, drawing nearer to press her nose to his cheek in a comforting gesture; placing a lingering kiss there. -we are crownore's. our children by blood and me, by marriage. they are our family, our culture too.-