She had seated herself before one of the strange stones, mercury eyes roving them, and her contemplation of the strange runestones excited some deep memory within her - a dim flicker of recognition, perhaps a genetic memory from far back in her lineage when man and wolf still vied for supremacy, before man had destroyed himself and left the world to the wolves. Was this what the gods had wished her to see? The sound of brush beneath paw alerted her and drew her attention, and her head swiveled to face the sound, her body tensing in readiness as the form stepped out into view.
Her tail flicked in surprise. "Baldur?" she greeted with a healthy dose of caution. She had not expected to see him again after he'd left Ebony to join his family. And what was this? The norsk words chimed like familiar bells in her ears despite his still-rough treatment of it. It had been so long since she'd spoken her sister's language with any but Kapra. She would not have expected to be speaking it now with Baldur Hroovitnisson. "Jeg har det bra. Og du?" Her head cocked to the side. As much as she reveled in the chance to stretch her linguistic capability, as much as she missed the norsk tongue, she would not overload a beginner with too many unfamiliar words. And she had to wonder now... was it Baldur the gods had wished for her to find here, and not the stones at all? "It has been a long time since last the gods brought us together."
