Duskfire Glacier and the prey always believe

A tension that Seelie was initially unaware of, which she chalks up to the awkwardness of a first encounter rather than any differing philosophies of blood purity, seems to melt between them like the rivulets of glacial water with the mention of Iana's name. 

"Jah. Iana is good friend to have," the golden dove demurred with a gentle curve of her lips, gaze dipping momentarily. It returned to meet Lane's within the next heartbeat, floppy ears perking to attention at the question the newcomer posed. 

"Oh! Yes," Seelie chirped softly, as if remembering just then the task she had been distracted from. She turned and nudged the pile of catmint closer to Lane for inspection. "Nepeta," the cur named it, not knowing the term for it in the common tongue. "For the coughing diseases."