Dawnlark Plains Stop, what the hell are you talking about?

That the other had not yet arrived was of no concern to him and so, he merely acknowledge the words with a nod. Kigipigak would either find him or he would not, the notion of his mission simplistic in nature. Truth be told, Stjornuati sought to give a task that was not wandering about finding women to entice to their land under false pretenses.

While a lengthy tale had never bothered the northerner, he remained silent as she spun the truncated version for him, speaking of unappreciated service and incompatibility. Love-loss, too. The last had driven many-a-wolf north, to the far reaches of the world where only the most hardy could survive, their lives begun anew within the Keep. There was a strength in her tale of leaving, he decided, one that he saw quite plainly.

It takes styrkur, strength, to depart what is known in favor of finding something better. Dark eyes sought to connect with hers before he continued. To move forward when you have been broken. She could have decided to remain where she was not happy, simply because it was familiar, but she had not. She had gathered herself and left in search of something new, something better. An admirable feat.

At the Watch, you will have a new start, a new life. The old one will be left behind. We are just beginning, but we will be strong, together. It was not much of a spiel, but his eyes shone fierce throughout the brevity of his offer, proud of what he and his brother sought to build. The strength of the woman before him would be a fine addition to that.