don't mind Siv, she's getting all big in the head :>
When the call came, she rose from the work at hand. It was assorted things—leather and herbs and the corpse of a crow opened from throat to bowels. She had needed the heart and blood and was now plucking the feathers for later use. It was, however, obvious that she could not ignore the demanding cry. Sirius needed her, specifically, needed a healer, and oh what could that be about? Obvious signs had clung to wisps of scents, in whispers of a legacy. Siv understood the desire. She too, wanted more children.
She packed extra things into an already large bag and, clothed in her long skirt and feathers, went to Hildr. The ride was not long, but it was fast. Still, it was longer than she was certain that Sirius wanted. She no longer feared him, though. While his wrath was mighty, her magic was stronger.
Siv dismounted and moved towards the ruins. The voice of the slave came, too boldly for her own liking, and she stepped in with her head high and her face contorted into careful ice. “We do not wish her to choke,” the witch said sharply, and dipped her head to Sirius. “My Lord.”
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