She works on making a suitable den for herself and her children. Argent knows not if her older children will need such an arrangement (except for maybe Voltaire, whom she watches in glimpses. Her son, she notes, makes a habit of shaking his head, and he seems to refuse sleep), but her little ones definitely will. Regardless of their own will, she does not yet trust they will not come to harm. She will keep them close for now, until they are big and strong enough to defend themselves. For now, her children are so small, and she needs to curl around them at night. It is hard work on three usable limbs; her muscles contract painfully as she clears out the large denning area, going to and fro, gathering fresh and comfortable bedding. She even dares to find a shiny rock or two to entertain her babes, little presents she doesn?t doubt they will find in the middle of the night. Alas, when all is done she relaxes, panting and enjoying the cool Glaciem air upon her neck, even though the ash makes her lungs hack heavily. She ought to find cover, and yet she cannot afford a break.

Kyarst and Kuvio slept soundly in the den, and it would be in that moment that she decided it fit to leave them for no more than an hour. She needed to examine the exterior of the den and determine whether or not it was safe enough for Kyarst to venture out again. He was itching to go, but the state of his lungs was pitiful and she had yet to allow him to do so. He had nearly died, and she would never again let either of them get that close to the curtain call. As she slipped from the den without a sound, making sure to put the protective leaves that filtered out the ash back into place, she would note the presence of another busy bee mother: Argent. The Queen would hasten to the silver's location, stealing breaths only when necessary. Though the ash had thinned and it mostly covered the ground, there was still enough in the air to worry her - she knew of its wrath. ?Argent,? she would chide aloud, her voice somewhat rasped. Even her lungs had not been spared when the ash fell from the sky only days ago. Emerald eyes locked onto the silver's injured leg, having noticed it previously at the meeting less than a week ago. ?Making yourself comfortable?? It was the sort of question that didn't really require an answer, but rather was intended to spark up some sort of dialogue between the two wolves. Involuntarily she would snort, shaking her head briskly before returning to her normal placid stance. It seemed the ash intended to further plague her, if only in a minor way. ?speech,?

Sendoa comes into her line of sight, and Argent dips her head briefly in greeting. Ruby gaze settles upon the blue-grey Queen evenly, and although she cannot help the spark of jealousy, she does not act upon it. The woman had been instrumental in her escape from Glaciem, and she cannot blame an ambitious soul. She is one herself, although for now she is focused on healing her leg, her relationship with her children, and her relationship with her pack. ?Sendoa,? she greets neutrally. Her eyes flicker to the bedding inside the newly established den, figuring it will prove suitable for her children. She asks a question, however rhetorical it may be, and the silver knight nods her head. ?I need a large den for myself and my children. I don?t know if the older ones will join me or not. Well, Voltaire might at least. I think he?s been?traumatized,? she says, a distant frown crossing her features. She worries for her boy as any mother would. She worries he is too caught up in trying to be a man, in trying to impress his father, and that he is slipping into a realm where she cannot help him. ?Your own children are quite beautiful,?she compliments naturally, awkwardly snapping back from her distance. It is a compliment she would pay to any, meant to spark idle conversation. She knows of the relationship they come from, and she is uncertain how she feels about it. She perhaps only feels uncertain because she misses Isardis. She misses him, and yet she is certain the only help will come from devoting herself to his pack. He cannot forget all that they were; they were too grand to leave behind. They were two parts of a marvelous whole, and maybe Argent isn?t quite up to being her half right now, but she can only hope that when she is, he will be as well.

Argent explained her need for a large den, mentioning Voltaire being traumatized. Sendoa had had the pleasure of bringing the male back into the fold, and couldn't help but agree with the statement - though she would say nothing. Tail swayed evenly behind her as she sneezed, the ash irritating the insides of her nostrils. Oh damn volcanoes. ?Probably wise to keep them close, especially now.? She would comment on the state of Glaciem - covered in ash and looking positively forlorn. Though the pack was as strong as ever, it would be some time before things returned to normal. Her own son would likely be plagued for months, even years, with his breathing impairment. She would not comment on that topic, though, for it was not common knowledge to the entire pack yet. Kyarst was far too young to be labeled with a possible weakness. Argent would compliment the boys, to which Sendoa gave a gracious bow of her head. ?Those of yours I have seen are quite marvelous as well,? though she mean the words as they came out, they still sounded clich? in their resonance. What was she supposed to say, the children were ugly? That would certainly not be considered clich?. She would never lie like that, the children were beautiful. ?Did your injury attribute to your return?? It wasn't as tactful as she'd hoped it was, but it was certainly better than the alternative line she had been thinking. Why did you come back? Argent was supposed to be long gone, invisible - a ghost. Sendoa had risked her neck for the woman, and she had returned. The very least the silver owed the Queen was an explanation. ?speech,?

This is not friendly conversation; Argent does not fool herself. They are walking around an elephant, pacing and staring off at each other, and the silver knight has little irritation. She is calm, accepting of her sins. ?Yes, indeed,? she agrees with the Queen. She remembers how Vereux lost his eye, and she does not wish that fate on any of her other children. She receives a compliment in return for her own brood and she smiles gently. She does not respond; what is she supposed to say without sounding arrogant? Alas, Sendoa asks another question, and Argent supposes they are closer to arriving at what they truly wish to talk about. ?Yes and no,? she says vaguely. ?Isardis found me when I was being attacked. My attackers broke my leg, and together we killed them. Like old times,?she muses. It is a pattern; they destroy enemies together, and although Argent tries not to look upon morbidity fondly, she cannot help herself. At least on three instances they have killed together. ?I was returning at any rate. I simply overestimated Isardis?s desire to punish mistakes, and underestimated how much he cares for me,? she notes. She had thought herself a tool, and it was her own insecurity that drove her away. She had thought he would slaughter her children, but he had not, and now she is back with them. ?What have I missed?? she questions. She speaks not with anger, but a forlorn curiosity. She loves Glaciem, she has missed it, and she wants to know of all comings and goings within the kingdom that is undeniably hers.

They were rams sizing each other up, snorting and pawing with horns at the ready. They were bulls charging forth, eyes red with fury. They were stallions, rearing and sputtering and charging into the fray. The two women were anything but friendly, though an onlooker might think otherwise just viewing their placid conversation. That is, until this most recent turn. Sendoa's question was easily answered, supposed attackers had broken her leg and she and Isardis had taken them down. Apparently, like old times. ?How lucky,? she mused - perhaps just a bit too sarcastically. It seemed she was already on her way back to Glaciem, though her comment about his caring sat very well with the Queen. Good, she was not under the false premise that she could just waltz in and return to her former glory. The crown the silver once wore now fit nicely atop Sendoa's head, and the blue had no intentions of removing it anytime soon. Argent would ask what she missed, and Sendoa recalled the events of the recent past. ?Isardis blinded and castrated the traitor, Deteste was put upon the Tortugan throne. There was an alliance with Ludicael, but that is uncertain due to their new leadership. A few more of the family have found their way to us, Roman and Sin among them.? Cleverly, and perhaps tactfully, she would avoid mentioning the search parties that had been sent out for her. Now was not the time to reassure her that Isardis still cared. Besides, that caring could have easily dissolved since then, and there was no point dredging it up now, was there? She snorted, rocking onto her haunches for comfort's sake. ?speech,?

The sarcasm is not lost on the silver knight, and she does not flinch. If Sendoa wishes to play a game of poison, Argent has much more to offer. ?You have been even luckier, as I?ve heard,? she says. On the surface it is a compliment; a remark about the crown on Sendoa?s head. So obviously beneath it is the obvious truth; Isardis had picked Argent first, when both women had been in the pack. He had chosen her over Sendoa. Argent?s best was better than Sendoa?s best; the blue-grey?s woman?s crown now was only a result of Argent?s mess up. The woman cannot deny that simple truth; nor can she deny that Argent had proven more valuable. She has proven undefeated in battle, a master in strategy, and what does Sendoa have to show whilst the golden medals of war wrest around Argent?s neck? Alas, for now Argent has little desire to try and put Sendoa into her place. She needs to heal and focus on her children, but the one subtle comment will serve enough a warning. The conversations shifts to all that has occurred, and not even a flinch occurs to Argent?s face when she hears of Taurig?s face. Internally she does not deny the stab of hurt, the pain, but she does not let it show in the slightest. She does not care that there is a lack of mention of the search parties; she knows Isardis well enough now to know he would have sent them. Even if he did not, she sees it as a fair point. She is a traitor in some sense after all. ?What of the prisoners we took? Any noise from Valhalla?? she questions.

Perhaps Isardis might have chosen Argent first, but that meant so little to the blue-hued warrior. For you see, she had been chosen second, and provided that she did not betray him as Argent had - she was confident she would hold her good favor with him until the end of her days. Argent may have been his first choice, but it was clear that Sendoa was the better choice. ?I can see where you might come to that conclusion, but luck had nothing to do with it,? she would chide matter-of-factly. Love had everything to do with it. Emerald eyes blazed white-hot. Two could play at the silver's game. ?The prisoners have been released, they were useless. Their Queen came to barter for them but Isardis refused her. Only weeks later he let them go their own way. Valhalla has been unusually silent, word has spread that the plains are empty - we don't know yet where they have chosen to move.? It didn't much matter, as far as she was concerned their dealings with Valhalla were through. And, on the off chance that they weren't through, it wouldn't be hard to locate such a large pack. Tail curled around her hips, the tip of it dancing this way and that - a testament to her coiling insides. It was strange how she had once admired Argent and now felt nothing more than reproach for the silver. Oh how quickly the tides had turned. The hour she had allotted herself was ticking away, but she would not yet retreat to her den - the blue wasn't set to concede this war of wits just yet. The boys were likely still sleeping, and she had little worry over Kyarst wandering off in his weakened state. Jigsaw would likely keep him in line - perhaps for the first time in their short lives. It was curious how quickly their personalities had developed, and altogether amusing. ?speech,?