Re: Many Meetings!
The outpouring of support was unexpected. The Bride felt her lips draw tight, her throat catching as though the words didn't want to come loose. She looked to Lifstan, trying to smile at him despite the painful welling in her chest, and managed a short nod of gratitude when the words failed. It was one thing to offer an ear, but to swear a sword was...
He didn't have to, but she appreciated the gesture more than words could say.
At her side, Cú Cathal whined, seeming to sense her discomfort. The enormous hound slipped in beside her, ears flat, attempting to push his head under her arm. Instinctively, she rested her hand on the dog's shaggy head, and the animal quietened.
The Bride found herself gripping the new talisman around her throat at Alvina's warning. The weight of it felt familiar. A comfort, almost, against the troubling words.
Not a wolf. Not a warg.
Something worse.
A part of her had known that already. She'd known from the moment she'd seen her hound return, and tended to the wounds at his side.
She gave another nod at the mention of the folk-moot. A little more resolute this time. The people had to know, and she trusted in Radaghast's judgement. "Best not to delay," she confirmed, her voice once more finding its courage. To Lifstan, she turned, offering him a smile that was equal parts pain and pity. "Your offer means more to me than I can put to words, my friend. Alas, I cannot tell you that my journey will be a happy one. You would travel with a woman already dead, and I can not ask such a thing of you in good faith," she said, gripping the talisaman a little tighter, the smile a little more honest. "But I would be grateful for your company, for as long as you are willing to provide it."