Lass uns die Himmel jagen im Tanz

Raka was bright and warm, so Bylgja wore the same warmth, seeing no reason not to. She was not a cold woman! Her life was cold, but that did not make her cruel!

The scarred woman paused at the question, and licked at her snout as she pondered. How was she to phrase this...? After all, to some wolves it could be unsettling.

But... Strai had not.

So perhaps...

"Well! You see! I come from land far from here. Is a big land. I see many things! We born to fight, because... ehm... is a thing in air? Is monsters that find dead and make them... new. Steal bodies." Her jaw clicks. "So... eh! My family holds crypt for ... dead. Little bits we can hold. Warriors skulls. Furs."