Moonspear call on me, call me

she nodded at hydra's appraisal of the skills within moonspear. she herself had begun to move toward the makings of extra leather-strips she might distribute, but her true calling oft led her to the lower slopes where ferns and low shrubs hid herbs from view.

there to her delight she had also found eggs, and the recollection of their rich innards tantalized the young woman even now.

but her mind attended the words of her leader, and the familiar melancholy that had stolen over the mountain since the two had been gone now found its way back into her heart. "perhaps love can turn the head of a wise wolf," she mused aloud, tones quiet out of respect for the grief that perhaps hovered in hydra's voice.