She had been so consumed with her own thoughts and purpose that she had not noticed the smaller wolf as she passed him. One of her best scouts Tychon had consistently proven himself to be loyal and reliable, even if he was rather curt. She tilted an ear toward him as he approached, unwilling to tear her gaze away from the picturesque setting that was ever changing as the sun was slowly swallowed by the sea. Until he came to sit next to her, her silvery white rimmed eyes dared flick to him for the briefest of moments in greeting before flitting back out over the water. His voice was still garbled and strained, but sounding better than it had the last time they had spoken. “Hello, Tychon.” Her voice was quiet, reverent perhaps in the evening light as it painted both their fur in shades of pink and orange along with the rest of the world.

Her dark ear flicked again, having to try harder to understand his next words than his original greeting but she managed it. Her delicate features nodded in confirmation of his assumption. “My mother used to bring us here.” The reverence in her tone only deepened at the thought. It was not the same ledge where Daenerys had revealed to her elder children their parentage and the history that surrounded their father, that one was further up the mountain and much more secluded, but still the similarities held the memory fresh in her mind. “What brings you out so late in the evening, tiring of your boarder patrol?” She teased him slightly, almost every time the call of a new visitor rang out over the mountainside it was her scouts muddled call summoning her. He was a different sort of wolf but she appreciated him deeply.