Sentinels of the Past [Rhaegara]

She was grateful she’d been warned of these barbaric wolves before she had the misfortune to run into one. She still had a hard time wrapping her head around the idea, as the tribes of the north had banished the idea long ago… the closest they had were prisoners of war, who were treated with respect even then. Granted, there had not been a war for some years before she was born, so she herself had never witnessed a prisoner or a prisoner exchange like her father had. She had taken his word for it.

He told stories of the Hjarrandi, horror etching it’s way onto her features. She recalled the skittish wolf from Abaven she had met too long ago; no wonder she had been so hesitant to speak at first, the poor girl had probably thought she was a slaver after one of her own had been taken. “That’s horrific.” There must be something she could do… a way to protect wolves who would not be able to protect themselves.

She pushed the thought aside. She needed to worry about herself first, not others.

She made a note of the Hjarrandi; if she ever heard the name, she’d run the other direction… of course, that was only if they were in a group. A sole wolf? She’d challenge them, put them in their place… she’d just have to brush up on her fighting skills first.

When he stated it was hell, she nodded, understanding though she’d never entirely understand the pain he’d been in. She still couldn’t imagine not being able to use her legs. “Women have that power, don't they?” She teased lightly when he mentioned a girl wiping the field with him once more. Carlys giving her a quizzical look. She never joked around; she’d always been serious, dedicated to her tasks. Perhaps these new lands would be good for her. “I haven’t had the opportunity to spar in ages; I can actually feel my fighting skills turning to stone and breaking down.” She commented idly.