Katja watched expressionlessly as her words sank in with the two Xanilov females present. The pack was theirs, for them to decide. Would they come to an agreement? Would they fight for it? Would Val abdicate her blood-right for her sister? In a way Katja expected her to after her adamant insistence on remaining a rogue last they'd spoken, her apparent distaste for it, but whether Svet was any more ready she didn't know. Katja still remembered her as the fearful young wolf of her puphood, and could not see such a frightened mouse making an efficient leader, but she had obviously changed in her time away and her entire bearing was different. Either way, whichever wolf ultimately became leader, it was not her decision.
Svet's furious reaction was unexpected, given the source. Katja made no move to intervene as she spoke harsh words to her sister, nor again when she left. Though she cared deeply for the Xanilovs, it was not for her to tell them how to live their lives. She would not stop Svet from leaving, though she would make it a point to keep tabs on her to steer her away her from any harm she might bring to herself, just as she would keep watch over Val and Kass, and seek for Sindri and Sigmarr. She had not been the best guardian for Raisa's pups, but perhaps now that they were adults grown she could make a better friend.
"Well, that leaves you then, young valkyrie," she spoke up without humor, without waiting for really any confirmation of acceptance. "I wish you joy, Queen Valeriya. Should you have need of me, I shall be here. For now I have... business... elsewhere. A new pack must be raised." A wolfish grin, uncharacteristic of her, lifted one lip to reveal the shining white fang beneath it. She inclined her head respectfully to the Xanilovs before turning on her heel and trotting out of the steppes. She didn't regret leaving it behind, though she'd been comfortable in her den there. She would return to her old ways, mercenary ways, viking ways. It would be well.
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