NOOOOO
Draugr is by Wander!
Dra did not know many men. She tended to avoid them, as a rule -- her closest friends and age-mates were all female, and she knew only the older males of Salsola, and even then only in a cursory fashion. Though troubled by this presumption without experience and fact to reinforce it, Dra decided her mother must know best. Siv had experienced the world much longer than Draugr and had already imparted much knowledge -- correct knowledge -- to Draugr. Her pale eyes remained on the flames, though she watched the shifting shadow on the wall, the largest dark spot where Siv blotted out the light.
The older woman began brushing her hair, and Draugr's tail swung a few times in an instinctive wag, her eyes half-lidding. They snapped open again when the dark-hued woman spoke in throaty tones of rights: Draugr's right. The woody-furred wolfdog had not known she had rights, and it inflamed her to know there was something in the world to which she was entitled. She tilted her head back just slightly so she might look back and up at her mother; this motion was not enough to disturb the comb or cause difficulty in accessing her hair.
My right, she agreed, sounding more fascinated than possessive.
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