Doing the work

Wynter realized as the purple-hued woman called her 'lady' that she must be one of the pack's slaves, but that didn't phase her. "It's alright! I don't mind," she insisted with a smile. It was obvious she was struggling quite a bit and Wynter wasn't going to just walk by and let her keep struggling like that, slave or not. She didn't really like the idea of slaves anyway, but she knew it had long been a part of their pack so it wasn't something she was going to fight. Once they were both settled with their portion of the bedding Wynter nodded for the other woman to continue leading the way and she fell into step beside her. "I'm Wynter," she told her, looking over at her with a grin. "What's your name?" She liked to know everyone in the Armada, but especially anyone that was going to be spending time with her brother.

"Wynter Fatalis"