With eyes more intense and less thoughtful than those of Nayru, the woman watched the man absorbed her explanation. Although no suspicion of her words crossed his lavender gaze, he did not seem to understand them either. This was something they shared in common. Why had her mother been so adamant about avoiding this place? Farore hadn't even known the name of the pack until she had pressed her father. And she certainly hadn't known Cercelee held any sort of high rank. Her eyes narrowed when Conor came to this part, then widened in surprise when she assured herself the man spoke the truth as he knew it. Her mother had run away from a whole pack?
"I was unaware. How long did she lead the pack for?" As if that mattered. It was no longer part of the white woman's life, even if it had been part of her past. Farore knew better than to expect the return of the long gone ruler. Farore did not want her return. She only wished for Nayru's departure so that they could resume the life that had been interrupted nearly a year ago. Convincing Nayru of this seemed as difficult as piecing together all the individual pieces that Conor, Nayru and herself held. How much easier it would be for Cercelee to speak for herself, but that was a gift that none of them would be given.
Hesitantly she spoke, knowing that she spoke of the behalf of another and that her words might not be as true as they could be. Not due to any purposeful deception on her part, but only that she was a poor stand-in for the woman Conor seemed to wish he was speak to. "She told us that someone had threatened our lives. Nayru's, Din's and my own. They wanted my mother out of their way, so she went. Whoever it was I can only guess lived here. That's really all I know." Hard stare waited for any flicker of reaction, anything that might indicate Conor understood, but only a few moments passed before she softened and resigned herself to simply being a companion in this confusing conversation.
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