Blackfeather Woods nothing but the burnt edge of an unfinished history

I doubt it, She grumbled, her voice low and laced with the malice that had only seeped from her as the days went by. Vaati was unwilling to parlay with anyone who opposed his views. Even kin. She did not know much of Atli — Kjalarr — her marked man as a child, other than the laments he had given as an adult looking back at it all. Everything seemed to suggest that Vaati mirrored his father in more than looks. She was glad that she bore only one of his offspring. 

She uses him as a pillow, unwilling to move back to the Glen, to let him see the cursed things that she had bore in the time he had left. Whatever I tell you to do, It is a good way to hide the fact that she honestly does not know what to do with him. He had come from no where unannounced. She had been in a lucid dreams for weeks, her brain clouded by the poppy seeds. Her brain is still foggy, with strikes of lightning stopping her in her tracks occasionally, every moment without the precious seeds a struggle.