Haunted Wood the sun comes up, babe, but it's hard to get my fill

she sees the problem, now. it was vengeance alone who'd forged the alliance, vengeance who knew the queen on the mountain. in killing him, she'd certainly brought the whole thing into doubt. auds flick, she considers a moment. perhaps it would have been better to have another at her side—no. she is warlord, and she will figure this out on her own. 

the man's gaze is piercing, sharp. "I killed him." she had not justified this to any of her wolves; she'd not needed to. but she does not want him to guess at the reasons she had, and so, "I challenged him. it was him or me." and I chose me. the still-healing laceration cut deep into her nape is a reminder of just how easily things could have gone differently. 

"I don't want to undo the choices he made. the Nightwalkers are still your allies," she affirms, wary of how he might respond. she does not know how to negotiate an alliance, only that she does not want enemies. if she screws this up, surely someone would challenge her then.