Ankyra Sound This is my catalyst for growth

life in drageda is quite pleasant, thus far, if only because she has her cousin by her side once more. they seem to be racked with this silent grief—the loss of a beloved leader, she's told. tashkent has never had much time for melancholy, and she doesn't really care about the plight of a pack that's barely hers, anyway. so when the shadows intrude too much, she wanders, as she is wont to do.

there is a remarkably ugly woman sitting at the edge of the trees, looking contemplative. well, no—she might have been pretty once, but life had not treated her well in the slightest. didn't she know a lady was supposed to take brute force to the rear, not the face? tashkent sniggers a little at the thought.

and, of course, is so wrapped up in her snide imagination that she misses entirely the gravity of the situation. not that she would care that she was so close to a rival claim. (and not that she had been briefed much on the situation with rusalka, anyway.)

you look like you could use some company, tashkent calls out, padding closer with a small smile. a sounding board, at least. i am a good listener. (the test results determined this was a lie.)