Wardruna had yet to find, many. Of course there could have been quite plenty enough members in the pack which had not been displaced by the world's magic…. Or was it the spirits themselves which intentionally scattered them all around with one last ‘yeah fuck you’? After all, they had already gotten caught up in these spirits' baggage once before.

She would continue to howl for her kin, hearing back voices from some others in return (leaving that vague) and weariness wore at body and shown in her face. She had been lucky to receive only some superficial wounds, but the lack of sleep by haunted dreams and battle with wraith had worn the Queen down.

She slowly tread the freeland just outside of Northfall, tired eyes searching the horizon for others to return home. Rhaegal, reluctant to leave his mother and to also make sure his sisters were alright, had fallen to rest in the brush somewhere within the forest not far as the mother stood guard in wait.

Then she smelt blood. She smelt Sreda and her daughter and lots of blood as they were brought back to the land where they belonged. Wardruna rushed, searching, woofing out until she would find there the two women, golden, black and pale in between. Yet they were not alone - Kvitrafn came, the image of a grandmother and grandfather before her. Her voice sounded - odd, echoed, didn't it? Faint, but there, like a whisper of your voice off the mountains on still, early winter mornings. And there - there, was that little wisps of light floating about the air? Like pollen caught in the sunlight. Wardruna figured surely that's what it was wrong all the spring suddenly just popping up.

The magic of this land had changed them with their survival. And there was Sreda, far worse for wound then Wardruna herself and while she swept it quick and low to whine and lick at her daughter's faces, it was quick and sporadic as Wardruna was made to focus on the bloodied scene before her.

Sreda… It was hardly a gruesome sight in Wardruna's eyes. That would come later, when Sreda's was was cleaned of blood and the full extent of the damage to her eye could be seen. Right now, she was a woman with a face of battle. Proud and relentless. She looked absolutely stunning.

We- we should call for Sølvi. She spoke than, after a moment or two before realizing she had been staring. The little healer had meant to give back to those who had given to her and that agreement seemed like it would be squared far more swiftly than Wardruna had expected.