Permafrost Hollows you cannot swallow a life that large

Her chin dipped nimbly in acknowledgement as the tundrian began to list the wolves who tagged along not only by name, but also circumstance - Faeryn was appreciative that he talked more than herself, at least in this instance; partly because she was not the most adept with words upon her tongue, but also because his voice reminded her of a brewing storm, the warning before the waves would swell and the sea would repent against the ties of the world. Despite the perlious danger of an ocean caught in vexation, it was a comfort to the blue siren. A memory that she could retain from her island days.

Then came more discussion of strategy, a tactition's musing, spilling from his ebony muzzle. "Smart," she hummed lightly, before her lips quirked into a graceful, fluid smile of her own. "You sound like you've thought a lot about this." A broad statement accompanied by a half-chuckle, one open for further discussion or to shift into another subject, all at his disposal. She minded not where the talk drifted as they trekked the borders.