Gyrfalcon's Keep Among the Gyrs

Solveig huffed at the name she was given, lifting her chin slightly and giving the woman a slightly incredulous look. One side of her lips drew up into a droll smile, and one eyebrow dipped down. "Hahah! You are pulling my leg, ya?" She asked, before she gestured to the short mountain, whose apex peeked out above the treeline. "They live here, gyrfalcons; many of them." She explained. Coincidences such as this pleased Solveig very much; she would interpret Greyfalcon's arrival as a good omen from the Old Gods. 

Being asked about her role also pleased her. "It is a good life," She said. "This pack has...two and a half moons? Here, anyway. We come from another land- but left because it changed, and we wished to keep our ways." She said. "So we are small, still; there are not many yet in our Vorn, but we will grow with time." She said. "What roles suit you best?" She asked, then, curious what Greyfalcon might want to take on should she decide to join them.