Sawtooth Spire himmelssturz

The only name she was certain that her children would carry was one of her own: Ostrega. It hadn't ever meant anything to her, not really, for it belonged to a father she'd never known and had never truly cared to know. Her mother had been determined to bestow it on her cubs and Nyx never questioned it, figuring it must've been important enough for her to fuel such insistence.

It was just a name, she felt, but one that'd always bound her to what faraway family she had. One that would bind her pups too, no matter the distance.

She shot Mahler a sideways glance, a silenot scowl to accompany the amused las of her peppered tail. "I think I much prefer "Dirt" and "Mud" to your suggestions," she quipped in return, smoothly playing along.