Northstar Vale will you not yield to immortal gods?

She observed him, taking note of his smell... What did it remind her of? Dark days, that's for sure. Though she didn't immediately associate the smell with those Blackfeather Fuckers, the thought crept up on her from behind and made her smile disappear. Had he been there? When their forest was deemed not safe enough anymore? How could this be? The youngest wolf she could remember was a girl not much younger than herself back then, speckled like the night sky. And those crazy eyes... She listened to the boy's explanation as to why he was barging around their territory, raising her tail when it seemed he was not about to be respectful towards her and her title.

His eyes though - bluer than clear water, more vibrant than those of Mouse - had stitched her mouth shut though. She blinked, unconsciously leaning closer to look at them more. Pretty... She murmured, just loud enough to be heard, but no blush rushed to her cheeks. He spooked her more than anything... He was a strange combination of danger and beauty, a force rather than a wolf, but she was not about to give in to such a man.

Rannoch? She questioned, brows raising in surprise. He's not here right now, 'm surry. 'Keepin' an eye on his pack 'til he returns. Her brows then knitted together in concern, not wanting to know why the silvery boy had come. If it is the fate of every Vale leader to be wounded, she'd rather flee back home right now. B-Blackfeather, right? How can I help ya?