Moonsong Glacier ⁴man hlaruva rávëa súrë?

The trivial resistance was met with an ebbing churr from the depths of tbe sybil's breast;
the rarity of her own posturing, now come to display with a flare of feathered tail over rawboned hips—
—hide and spittle flew—
—and then it was mooseflesh, not coyote, that the two she-wolves began to partake in.

​An answer, finally; breathless:  "Supposedly,"
and the stricken did not elaborate until she came away with another portion of flesh or so; setting their makeshift stock aside, close, before looking upon the auburn'd with a gauzy gaze once more.  "I plan to return to my claim with what I have gathered; I will not fill my stomach until my own wolves have first supped, themselves."  Halfsight lingered upon the seaglass eyes with the regard of would-be monarch; assessing.  "I would ... be remiss, after all, in having a lack of those who are as resourceful as you yourself have proved to be."  

The unspoken suggestion lingered in the air between them, in the breath sifting from her lungs: it was entirely the flamebrand's decision, and so Andraste took this lull to rent more sinew from cow's marrow.