The Sentinels there's a black crow sitting across from me

The girl thanked him. Ford placed a gentle smile on his face that seemed to curl the edges of his features and crinkle near to his empty eyes. Then, the brute bowed his head and nodded once to the young lady. She had done well to exist beside them as long as she had. Even better, she had been able to endure the tiresome Rannveig and the pompous Velen without losing her head. It was more than he had expected of her, and the great seawolf had found that – in spite of himself – he was pleased that she had remained.

“There's no need to thank me. You've proven yourself, so far.”

It was true, after all. The words he used weren't twisted or exaggerated to appeal to her. Ford was genuinely impressed that she had found a place among the Mayfair-Cairn wolves, and she was proving to be more capable with each passing day.

When Dalia mentioned Rannveig and Velen, the warhound latched his sights on her with interest. It was rare that young ladies were able to recognize such traits in his brothers. The warhound seemed to regard her with a knowing expression. “It is good that you were able to catch on to that,” he remarked with a wild smirk. The seawolf wondered what she would say about him. What did Dalia have to say about Ford when he did not linger nearby?