Deepwood Weald ²tenn' enta lúme

nah ur good <3 my brain dk how to write this week oof

New name on a new tongue and then an apology—
“There is nothing to forgive,”  she quipped, though the low tones were entirely without admonishment. The searing of her spine and soul had been kept a private matter ... but if the stricken wished to meld herself into a forthright leader, she supposes she must seem more reachable, reservedness be damned. If not that, than at least an aware debator:

“All I mind is that I would not let those who wish to follow our ways in ze weald do so blindly.”  A quiet suggestion for the argent to think further on her choice and for herself; a pale criticism for the silver’s own self-rumination. But Andraste stept closer all the same, thin ears cast patiently.  “My wolves are their own, but we are they that offer knowledge to those of ze Wilds who yearn for it. Knowledge, for ze kindred souls who are ravenous to learn all they may. If it please you, this ambition ... would you still follow in our steps?”

Sure, the concept had yet to be entirely figured out; but there was the unassuming albeit fervent gleam in the silver’s eyes once more,  “We offer purpose to those who have a passion,”  heard on her own tongue despite the hummed tones; despite how she spoke as if the weald were twenty-strong rather than a mere two.