Windsong

She continued to wait where she was, taking the opportunity to mull over the various problems that always seemed to crop up when one had a pack, on top of the issues presented by her sick offspring and the dangerous southern sickness itself. She would need to send her hunters ranging out further afield with winter coming upon them, though there would still be prey here for any who knew how to hunt the north. Assuming she could get her hunters to even leave their dens, she noted sourly to herself. She did not have long to ponder the various sundry issues, however, for Lyndvarr answered her call with an admirable promptness, and Katja dipped her head to him in acknowledgement. "Du er godt framover, nevø," she spoke in his native language. "Will you join me on my patrol?