Cyan eyes lingered on the queen of the mountain, a slight curl starting to form in the corners of Satinka’s lips. It became apparent that both women were proud in nature. The smirk turned into a smile at the invitation to join the hunt. At least it was something she could lose herself in, whether or not she proved herself to this place or not, it was a task she enjoyed.

Her brow rose in surprise at the Alpha’s request for her to walk with her. She supposed she could see the logic in it, though it shook her a little. The idea of companionship, or really in depth communication was not something the woman was used to. Her ears flicked back uncertainly, skeptically, as if she thought it was a trick before she grudgingly gave into the subtle command. She had thought she would jump through hoops and Alpha had given her to join a pack. She just had not been expecting a hoop like this. Satinka stepped beside Danny, keeping herself appropriately ‘submissive’, though it was clear from her face and posture it was purely for politics and show. She knew her place in the ranks and in the world, and she fit into it, or at least made herself fit.

Quietly, she listened to what Daenerys had to say. Her initial suspicions proved correct. A family of wolves, reigning over a kingdom. Generation after generation. Her eyes shadowed for a breath at the ties to her own world. All generations ended some day. Blood ran thin and monarchies topled. Pupils flicked to the queen and back to the trails at the mentions of ranks and prestige. It would have been a beautiful story to an ambitious wolf. Satinka could not have cared less if she were given a title and an earnings. There was no point to work for something that could be taken from you by the stop of a heartbeat.

She could feel the Queen’s dark eye glance at her and hear the invitation to speak and share on her tongue. The wolf released a quiet ‘hmmm…’ of contemplation as she picked through what she could share and what would have been of interest to the other she-wolf. I have no tales. Myths and legends were a waste of time compared to what is, if those are what you are looking for. she said tartly. I was bred for a purpose, as was all of my line. Most of my pack. We come from the tundras. After ourselves, cold was the most skilled killer. The packs there were...nomadic. All had their skillset. The treasured features that lent to their chosen method of survival. We hunted. Others conquered. Some stole. Whatever way, we eventually lost.