Through my wandering days and my training to take my place as Mercenary of Spirane I had begun to suspect that there were many other roles needed in a pack. Daenery's employed the use of storytellers and even the gypsys for entertainment. Besides, what was a pack without those who knew how to lighten the mood? Or those that could care for the weak, newborn, or aged? There would always be a need for hunters and skilled warriors. Currently the packs were all on edge with the rise of a certain wolf in Iromar, a King who rumor had it, was cruel and unashamed of his base actions. Even as I question Vesta I sense innately that she is no imposter, no spy, but it is still my duty to question her. I trusted my instincts completely yet it is always good to have something to back up facts.

There is a breif pause after my question and I raise a brow slowly at her, noting the hesitancy in her actions. It makes me suspicious for a moment because I recognize a secret before my eyes, the way her lips seem to twist in on themselves to hold it back before she begins with a halted speech. No doubt trying to figure out just what to say but she is also a creature of honesty, I think, and soon it begins to spill out of her.

A born mountain wolf and yet not born beneath the reign of Daenery's. That does not bother me for I had not been born to the mountains. I suppose my love of them runs in my veins from a time before I had been born. I was conceived here, I knew, and even in the womb I had missed the sharp chill air of the mountain sides and the crispy scent of the foot hills. I, too, had lived elsewhere. Asteraia, Taviora, the Grotto, Ruieze, Enocra... We were both well versed in that.

My white eyes sharpen as we get to the crux of the issue. I know what the Mountain Queen thinks of him. Roman - it must be. It is a pleasing sensation to figure out a puzzle and Vesta was one, all wrapped up in sweetness. A sudden grin is given to her for I find amusement in her assured air. "A misunderstanding, eh?' The words come out with just a hint of inflection and a sardonic air, but I can't help but let it go because Roman is her father and a child would always think the world of their father. I remember thinking that Fenrir was infallible despite knowing about Taliesin, although I never met my half brother. Besides, her next line is one of the truest statements I have heard considering we left Asteraia due to the very thing. "Sometimes," I reply in a conciliatory manner.

Perhaps it is her obvious admiration of Spirane that completely wins me over. Her loyalty seems genuine, even if it is more to the land than the Alphess herself but I suppose such a loyalty must start somewhere. Hell, I dragged Tychon here until we were both bloody and hateful and weary and he had chosen to stay despite disliking the diplomatic mannerisms of pack life. Vesta is much kinder than that and I sense she has a swift mind ready for direction. There is no pride in me at her assessment of myself because I am not a prideful creature. I am content in the knowledge that whatever I set my mind to can be achieved and has been achieved. Still, I offer her a kind smile because I find that her company is preferable at this moment than my usual solitude. "Anyone can be strong, you just have to keep going to get there. What of you, what strengths do you possess? If you wish a future here what have you learned or aspire to?" The first question comes out in my militant manner but I soften it suddenly, blinking hard at myself as I try to remember that my questions should not be so much an interrogation as friendly chatter. I just wasn't sure how to do that yet.