Hideaway Strath Eyes, blood, bones

She had grown. For that much, he was certain.
The last time he'd seen any of his children, they had been young and naive. But now, Nyra had formed to be a creature of great ambition and triumph.
She bore scars as well. Slowly, the beast circled his daughter, viewing the mass of muscle and collection of trophies from what many battles she clearly had fought.
You have done well for yourself, Fenrir purred, tone slightly more rasped, but still with that same instance of malice. Though I had been furious when finding that you had abandoned your home, I couldn't bare to conceal pride for who my daughter has become. A Dróttning, now, I take it? This was her territory, as she'd so claimed. He hoped that she would not be entirely dismissive of their cultural hierarchy.