drink to the power

Maybe the mead wasn't such a bad idea. It wouldn't hurt being a little less... in her head, at least for a little while. Kiela is the type to think over everything carefully, though she supposed if there were anyone she could truly let her guard down around it would be Víðarr. A wolf she trusts more than anyone else in this life other than herself.

"Politics. I'm not sure how you stand them," Kiela commented, conversational - inputting her dislike of such things without trying to be combative. Different wolves cared for different things. Politics were not something that she cared for, though she understood the importance of such things, especially for a wolf like Víðarr. "I'm glad the trip went well though." It was no doubt a beneficial experience for his children, to see how wolves in a different land might live, to see their different cultures. All importance experiences for growing minds.

He spoke again though, sharing a less than ideal part of his trip - a funeral. Kiela nodded somberly in understanding. "Someone close to you?" It seemed, at the very least, that the wolf had not been a stranger, but she wanted to know from him rather than assume. Talking about death was not something she felt was taboo, though she wasn't so sure if Víðarr felt the same.