Morganna answered the boy with a low "Hmm," considering whether or not it would be worth poking the hornet's nest. By Greer's estimation, there were hardly any wolves left but she had little doubt that many of them held less than zero regard for her, and likewise, she considered her sister the only one worth the time of day. "I'll pro'lly poke around a bit but I don' expect a welcome party." She considered all the havoc she could cause with someone like Skoll on her side, or even Bojay and Sterling when they finally arrived, but that would be a worry for another day. "From what I managed ter sniff out there's not a lot left ter go back to, and their pup isn' nearly so fine as you are." Even if she still silently considered her own children superior to them all.
The woman didn’t seem thrilled about returning to the Ridge. He could practically hear the gears turning inside her head, but he kept his thoughts to himself despite the growing curiosity bubbling within his chest. He had heard about the Ridge before, from his mother, but the pale queen did not seem keen on returning. Or venturing down to the south—not unless it was to visit the peach-eyed woman before him. … and their pup isn’ nearly so fine as you are. Good. His tail wagged at that, a confident grin sprawling across his dark maw. Satisfied with her answer the ebony Kael gave a sharp nod. What’s it like down there? Cyril did not know if he would ever make a trip south, especially if his so-called brother was living there, so he was curious as to what it looked like. All he knew was the tundra and the monadnock, which he was perfectly fine with. No trees to block his vision, or raging rivers to disrupt the silence.
What's it like down there? Morganna had a fondness for the south, for the swaying willows and the open rise. For the whispering grasses of the meadow and the fresh, sharp wind of the heights. She loved the throng of the grove under her paws and the way the lagoon lit up under the moon. "It's different ter up here, yer can't see so far, an' there's more cover from th' wind. There're open spots, but they aren't as open as this." She couldn't really put into words her appreciation for the south western corner of relic lore. "How about yer come an' visit me with yer ma one day? I'll show yer around."
His nose wrinkled at her description. … can’t see so far … Gross! Cyril could not imagine living in a place wrapped in trees. The cover from the wind bit was nice, but it didn’t make it any more appealing. The tundra was his home—he couldn’t imagine anything better than the sweeping landscape. The towering monadnock where he and his family resided. The south didn’t spike his interest and he did not now how his mother had lived down there, among all the dreadful trees. But, it was worth visiting. His oversized paws itched at the thought, his nose falling to the side. Okay, he responded after a brief pause, a crooked grin nestled against his ebony lips, we’ll come visit. But he couldn’t promise he’d like it more than the north. No way.
It finally seemed as though there was a wolf to rival Odin's love of open spaces. Maybe it was being born on the Monadnock that instilled that love of areas? It had been one of his main reasons for leaving Torbine after all, and she smirked. "Odin prefers it up 'ere too," But Morganna had decided since leaving that she much preferred the option of having ready shade and a break from the wind and snow when it got as overbearing as it could out on the tundra. "But i's a deal. I'll make sure yer have fun okay?" She motioned her head back towards the monadnock. "Speakin' o' Odin, do yer think yer can help me find 'im?"