The unfamiliar voice calling from the border caught her attention, pulling her in. The unfamiliar scent, a wolf of Ludicael, piqued her interest even more. The viking regent slipped from her den beneath the ruins, traveling the short distance to the border. A young girl waited there, all seriousness. Silver gaze took her in, from tan muzzle to black tail, before Katja came to a halt before her. She was young, a couple inches smaller than Katja but not so slim, without the wiry muscles of the warrior. Not much of a threat, even if Ludicael weren't under an accord of peace with them. Still, Katja remained a cautious distance away as she seated herself, striped tail curling around dark legs. She hadn't survived so long by taking things at face value. "What is it you are needing?" she asked, her words blunt and to the point, but her tone and body language without aggression. Not relaxed, never that, but not aggressive.
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