Hietala is content to lay in the dirt for a little while. Both females take this chance to catch their breaths, and now that she has vented some frustration at her younger brother, the ice queen has started to busy herself with trying to clean her legs. Slowly she runs the tongue through her white thick fur and down her long limbs. Although she lost, she is still proud that she gave it everything she had. It’s a simple fact that her best wasn’t good enough today. A snarl shatters the silence and Hietala pins her ears against her skull as Nymeria rushes forward.

Smirking as she feels the gust of wind from her little brother scurry past her she welcomes Nymeria’s booming voice with a vagrant stare. She waits for a few seconds before she licks her black lips. “Hush now,” her voice is a low whisper, like a mother soothing a crying child, “You have won. Accept your victory with grace. I am not deaf and there is no need to shout at me like that.” With a huff she tries to move her stiff neck, which was still searing with fresh pain. Her ears returned to the point of her head as she answered the queen's question.

“I am Hietala, the fallen ice queen of the frozen northern border of King Haggard’s empire.” She has lost the grandeur that she wore so elegantly on her way up the mountainside. “To you, however, I am nothing. Just as insignificant as dirt beneath your paws. I will simply be another name to add to your growing roster of vanquished foes.” There is no warmth to her voice. As far as she was concerned, she was only living for the sake of living.

Her tail starts to slowly sway back and forth across the alpine grass like a snake. “I notice that you didn’t answer my little brother,” she flashes the poor young pup a smile, though she can almost smell him cowering from here. Or was he angry? She could never really tell with that one, he had always been an odd wolf. “So tell me, oh victorious one, am I free to go now, or am I your prisoner?” There is a devilish smile playing across her face as she stared into the void where Nymeria’s face was. Surely the correct choice would be to let her and the brat leave the mountain and forbid them from returning. Though killing the pair of them would be an easier and permanent solution to troublemakers.

Yours Sincerely,

Hietala *, The Fallen Ice Queen