She's in the common area. Mid-afternoon, and her daughter is not present. :>
(385)
It had been a week since the black-cow Eris had allowed her entry into Salsola, as the pack was called. This term fitted them, as did the land. Harsh and overgrown, it was terrain easily defended and easily hidden. While she had spent most of her time getting acquainted with the land, she had met others during her stay. Siv was not antisocial despite her rather cynical outlook on life, and was pleased to have crossed paths with Eris’ rather gruff mate. While he had been initially short with her, Siv made a point to bring her daughter around to see the horses and gradually became comfortable around the dark wolf. A giant of a man, she enjoyed knowing that the pack was protected by such things. She wondered if he carried jötnar blood; certainly, he was built as if he might.
She had learned several other curious things during her stay. The leader of this pack was a man who was lean and dark, and it surprised her he commanded such a massive man—it surprised her only until she heard him speak. The power of his voice was such it could not be denied. Later, she drew allusions to Loki and laughed at herself for such a thought. Her gods were simply symbols, things weighted because hey most likely reflected men. If the gods lived in all living things, could she not call Eris, who commanded two cats now, Freya? Was her savage daughter not Skadi? The whole pantheon might as well have lived here if she thought of things in such a manner.
It was foolishness, the dark woman thought to herself, and shook out the pelt she carried. While she had turned the buck over to Eris, Siv was not a helpless woman herself. She had hunted the lands over the past week and come back with several small kills. Her main prize had been a silver fox—while Siv had little qualms killing the thing, she would have just as well left it alone…save the fact the stupid thing had gone after her daughter. Of course, now she had a winter-thick pelt to work with. She brushed her hand along it, admiring the color (how much like her own it was, she thought) and debating what to do with it.
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