Variables

Auora did not answer her words, though she had not expected her to. But an answer there was nonetheless there in the place where the fireflies waited only for dark to fall. A wolf approached, hesitant words in her sister's language tumbling brokenly from his lips, and Katja dipped her head in acknowledgement of the words, though not the content. "Jeg er ingen dame," she returned with small amusement, but did not attempt to continue a conversation further in the language. "These lands are not mine to guard; you may join me if you wish." She tilted her head to the side to regard him, this stranger, a gesture more measuring, with her stillness and her cold, than it was quizzical. "I do not often meet one who speaks the northern languages, however imperfectly."