Whitestone Monadnock canary sings to the crow

Pride blossomed unbidden in his chest. That Wraith had recognized the strain it put on his mate brought no small amount of peace with it. Reading @Piety could be as challenging as predicting the whirling storms, but he was obviously getting the hang of it. He let her gratitude roll over him like a comforting summer breeze and smiled in kind. They need not speak further on the matter until she was good and ready. When she was, Wraith knew she wouldn't hesitate in letting him know in turn.

With the conversation turned to Cheedo, the brute inclined his head. "She came to follow Craw." All of them had, he knew. "It must be an adjustment to instead settle for the leadership of others." And in that single sentence lay the most subtle of hints towards his own self-deprecating thoughts on the matter. He was not leadership material. He'd proven that before, and as much as he fought to clear himself of that miasma of guilt and death, doubt remained. Craw had been a leader; had inspired loyalty. Not only Wraith's, but the loyalty of those who had traversed the mountains during the worst of winter to follow him. Had the spider not gone off the deep end in his own questionable soul-searching, they would all be following him still instead of stumbling after a pair without experience.

He looked to Piety with that knowledge blinking in his gaze and amended his thoughts. There was experience there. And Piety, too, inspired loyalty of those around her. He hoped only to one day emulate the same and earn it as well.

But any portal into his thoughts was shut before the woman could comment on it and Wraith's amber gaze teased her with challenge to give chase. Her loud bark and impending chase was followed by deeper barks of laughter. How easy it was for her presence to soothe self-doubt and let him lapse into the playfulness of youth.

Not for the first time, Wraith marveled at how he had gotten so lucky.