Seaside Moors my boy builds coffins with hammers and nails

something within the ashen adjudicator seems to loosen as the hard look passed her way abandons some of its intensity. well that's certainly a relief, she wouldn't be thrilled at the idea of having to beg for a spot within this pack when so many of her instincts already shied away from the idea of it. had it not been for the silent sentry at her side drawing some of them curiously towards him, she would likely have blanched and retreated by now. away from the prying eyes of the sneering sea and its jeering birds. the impassive look passed his way is subdued slightly in an effort to meet his own neutrality as a small nod is offered up. "when he realised i was no longer tied to a pack, he suggested i find a home here yes." a little bird like movement tilts her head as curiosity twirls across tenebrous eyes, was there a signifiance to the man's invite or was it merely self interest that drove the question forth. 

silently, she focuses on his glance to bertók's betrayed presence yet her own frigid stare does not once shift from the man. she roves his figure quickly for any signs of tensing muscles that may betray a potential lunge at her feathered friend when he opens his mouth to utter one foreign word. tulugak. although most definitely a new word she'd not passed by before, there is an odd familiarity to it that she can't quite place. how exactly can a word roll forth in such a adventitious yet reminiscent manner? curiously, she tests it on her tongue; echoing a lilted "tulugak" not quite a statement and yet not reaching the level to be confidently deciphered as a question either. just a curious uttering. her head bobs in affirmation to his query "yes, i'm not sure why he chose to be but he's always there...his name's bertók" she cannot hold back the fondness to taint her words as she blinks back at the ruffled creature, confident now that the bear like wolf didn't intend to make a snack of him. she's still uncertain as to why the raven seems so fixated on the rusalkan and secretly arches a brow in the bird's direction, but it's ignored and so she gives up and swings her head back to face her company.

she falls into the gentle embrace of silence once more, ears turning to catch the hum of the salty air that swishes giddily about them and casts a sidelong glance at rosencrantz. his focus still seems primarily on the younger man and she follows suit so that inky pools settle on him once more.