Nari. I know her scent well enough and yet, it is not the reason my ears twist towards the mouth of my den in the darkness; rather, I hear her. Her nails scrape across stone, a request and a demand in the same vein. She is a peculiar wolf in that sense alone, a wolf born without a voice and yet all too easily heard. I wonder if Sif would do well with to learn from her, a tactical decision that would also ensure a loyal eye watches over that child. I might have made peace with Dieloch for the time being but I cannot become comfortable with that alone; I must remain several steps ahead and I have no quarrels using children to do so. Nari is, after all, a wolf who has been here from the beginning of my rule. She is a loyal woman, strong and promising. She would make for more than just Glorall's Wildfire.

I shift now, sliding towards the den's opening with a low grumble of greeting. I smell blood and feather, my ears flickering at the realization as my eyes find the offering first. I slip from the den, my eyes shifting from the prey to hers with an amused half-grin. She sits so proudly, clearly chuffed by something, be it her successful hunt or her ability to summon me without an agitated response. I have never enjoyed being summoned and yet, I have made the exception for wolves such as Nari.

For a moment, I remain in my own silence as I lean back, stretching out my limbs and flexing my toes in the sandy dirt surrounding us. My eyes roam idly back to the bird, fascinated by its unusual colouration for a moment before I prod at it with my muzzle, breathing in its scent in an effort to understand it better. It smells of something faint and far away, a distant forest or a far off river. It is not a bird of Glorall, not usually at least, and it makes my ear flicker towards Nari, both impressed and curious. "Did you find this within Glorall?" as I ask, I watch her closely, knowing that I must be attentive to receive an answer. Perhaps her silence affords her that - strength in a sense of forcing those around her to pay attention.

I keep an eye on her as I lean into the kill once more, this time beginning to pry open the breast and wings of the bird. I intend to break it apart as best as possible, nudging half of the kill towards her with a roll of my shoulders. She has done well, and not just with this hunt, and so, she has earned more than just a fresh meal. Perhaps it is a good thing that she has come to me today.