Brilliant emerald green eyes shone brightly from a pitch black facade as Raum stood, her gaze moving slowly across her surroundings. When Blackthorne had first brought here into Iromar, her sole focus had been to reach the boneyard, and once they had arrived she had been consumed with it. Now, as she stood with the sprawling collection at her back, she looked out across the marshland that abutted the prize at the heart of this territory. Though she was not particularly taken with the landscape - for that was all it was, land - she did not dislike it either. While her diet was made up predominantly of lupine delicacies, she would hunt other beasts as well if the need arose. If this place could provide her with alternative dietary options, as well as a shield from the teeth of wolves who sought to stop her very nature, then she could see the benefit to calling this place home. And of course, the allure of the boneyard had not lessened.

Her right ear tipped out to the side at the sound of approaching paw steps, and her head turned to follow the motion as well. Seeing that it was the Darkbringer who approached, she lifted her paw and set it upon the skull, pushing forward to roll it towards him for his inspection. Placing her paw back on the ground, she blinked, watching him for a moment. His presence is, as ever, dominant and steadfast, but she did not feel fear as a weaker being might. Instead she felt invigorated, pleased with herself and him, even if his beautiful black pelt was stained with those unfortunate silver markings.

For a moment she considered what he demanded to know about the bone she had brought forth to give to him and in turn the boneyard. Her nostrils flared, and she did her best to recall and recount what she knew about the woman upon whose strong shoulders the skull had once rested. "Night Mother," she began, giving the title the woman had claimed for herself. "Once alpha of bigger place where I came from," she referred to their conversation in the grotto, about the big place that had been ruined. "Night Mother, Dread Father - ones to make plains place where hunters were not hunted." At this her brows furrowed, annoyed with the patchiness of her childhood memories. It had been a long time since she had looked back on her youth; for so long she had only looked forward - to her next meal. "Someone came, took," she shrugged, "I left. Did not see this one again until dead." Motioning towards the skull, she considered it for a moment. Though she seemed finished with providing the information Blackthorne had wanted, one last tidbit clawed its way to the surface. "Night Mother - my mother - Jaidah."