Making an entrance

He watched with great curiosity at her practised routine. He wondered how often she stitched up sword wounds, and how many incidents their were as wolves learned to handle the sharp blades. He hadn’t seen anything quite so organised since… well. Since he left home. He pushed aside the near-familiar emotions that came on the heel of that thought. Concentrating instead on the white raven that swooped to her side, and threaded the needle in her steed. Clever.

Gwynevere spoke of the wolves of this pack, and Art’s habit of collecting them. He nodded his head slowly. The Aegis had mentioned something of this pack being a sanctuary. He was starting to understand exactly what that meant. “Are the Adravendi extended family?” He asked, trying to get a feel for the inner politics of this pack. He glanced studiously at his skin as she tapped the edges with her needle. He felt little. A courtesy he hadn’t expected before she started to poke through the skin and sow neat, tidy little stitches across his wound. He was starting to feel more and more impressed by the level of knowledge and care in the Hallows infirmary. He would be in safe paws if anything worse ever happened to him. “Are all the Hallows healers as well trained as you are, Lady Gwunevere?”


"Speech"