Fire and blood.

Runa simply blinked slowly at the roiling red aura around the pale creature as he spoke. "Wearing a coat to cover your fur. How foolish," she mused aloud to the shimmering star-butterfly that fluttered beside her before it darted away, drawing her attention back to the male. "If I do not speak of things I do not know of, how am I to learn of them? But I do know you are no king nor yet jarl of mine, nor of my family. You would be hard pressed to force a wolf of the north to bow to another," she laughed again, that burbling-brook laughter. It was an amusing thought, that he could possibly think his ancestry to be supreme over the Finnvi line. She, who had been sired by a god, saw little in the male to be impressed with... nor frightened over.