Dawnlark Plains Stop, what the hell are you talking about?

The fire he spoke of sparked, in her eyes, in her voice; had it been a physical flame, he might have flinched at the harshness but as it was, Stjornuati merely regarded her with a placid expression. So she could fight, at least enough to be standing here with only an eye missing and not limb or life, and would do so to protect her own. It was a proclomation that the man could appreciate, nodding as she spoke of her companion and obligations to her children.

When you have spoken and decided, come to the forest of ravens, the spire that watches over the lands and call for this one, and this one's brother. If she (and her companion) was willing to pledge her loyalty to the pair of Northerner's, then they would have no quarrel, their skills a few more into the pile of wolves that he gathered.