I'm pping, deal with it
Slowly, the kindling began to grow. Flames licked at the dried wood, chewing quickly through sections of pine and burning hot, though the heavier wood would take longer to catch and burn. It was a controlled thing, however, and Siv had no need to pay any attention to it. Between the lantern and the fire there was just enough light to see…and just enough not-light to allow the shadows to flicker and dance as if they too were alive.
The dark wolf, a giant amongst these people, rose and trailed off towards her sleeping quarters. From here she brought the bone comb, a pale thing that gleamed against her palm. She was listening as she moved, and began speaking long before she reached her daughter. “Magic is a woman’s realm, Draugr. Men might try and drabble in such a place, but it is not theirs to know.” She slowed behind the girl and lifted a section of her hair. Gently, she began to comb through it—it was something she had done when the child still lived here, and it helped to keep her focused. It further helped to spread her own scent through the Associate’s hair and clearly define just whose daughter Draugr was.
“You will learn,” she affirmed. “It is your right.”
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