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"The enemy, of course. Though the giant was no great warrior, he was determined and, of course, large. He managed to stall their pursuers long enough for the alpha's daughter to flee to safety, but there was a price. The giant was only one, and his enemy many. Though he fought valiantly, he could not hope to survive. He met his end fighting for the survival of the alpha's daughter, and he did not regret it.

"She survived and was reunited with her pack. Her presence rekindled the hope that they had all but lost. Before so very much longer, even the enemy had tired of the bloodshed. Peace reigned once more. In death, the giant was honored as he never was in life, lauded for his courage and the sacrifice that saved them all."

She glanced sidelong at the male. "Though some believe he survived his terrible wounds and the alpha's daughter fell in love with him, realizing that he had been her hero all along." She shrugged. "Who can say."

The male's pensive silence made Senka curious, but she did not break it. Instead, she kept watch on him out of the corner of her eye and tried to understand his expression. She did not have much success.

When he asked his question, it was her turn to pause for a moment. Was the tale familiar to him, or did he simply find something of particular interest in it?

"Someone I met long ago," she said, and though the words were simply spoken, it was clear that she did not intend to elaborate. Some wolves wanted their names spread far and wide, while others preferred to remain anonymous. Senka might cajole a story from an unwilling maw, but she kept her word. If a tale was not meant to be spread, she would not spread it; and if its source was meant to remain unknown, none would ever know it.

"Does it matter?" she wondered.

Though his sudden shift in mood was unexpected, Senka did not allow it to bother her. The tone rather reminded her of Bryanni when she had been serious about something...which was, admittedly, most of the time. "Perhaps I like my secrets," she told him, then gave him a playful smile. "You do not seem so very old to me."

Given the choice, Senka would choose a story over mundane conversation nine times out of ten. She was rather tempted to take the story, now. Jonsi was skilled at the art, and it was not often that she came across those whose dedication matched her own. Or indeed, those who practiced the art at all. Yet she also wished to know more about the wolf, himself. Perhaps there would be time enough for both in the course of their acquaintance.

"I will not divert you for long," she assured. "But I do wonder. Is this how you pass all your time? Trading stories with every strange wolf you meet?"

"Allow me back?" she mused. That was an odd way of putting it. Her pack could be harsh, it was true, but she did not begrudge them their traditions. They had not gotten to be as strong as they were today, nor survived all these centuries by being soft. And a journey was no hardship to her. In fact, she rather relished the adventure.

Still, she considered the tradition as it was explained to her. A would-be kazkar had been known to Journey anywhere between a few months to a year before she returned triumphant. "I could, I think, reasonably return within the month. But I do not think I am quite ready for that, yet." She grinned. "There is so much of the world left to see, you know. Who can tell when I shall get another chance such as this."

Senka cocked her head and considered him. The life of a loner was enjoyable, it was true. If fate decided that she were to live the remainder of her life that way, she would not be overly bothered. She did not have many close connections in her pack - she was the orphan of outsiders, and though the pack was known to raise their pups communally, she had no blood family within. It had never bothered her. But one thing she did have was honor, in her own way. She was loyal to her pack, loyal to the memory of her mentor, and she had no desire to shirk the duty she had been granted. But it was more than that.

"I understand the draw of a wanderer's life. Its freedom is intoxicating. No rules. No boundaries. No expectations. The thrill of living each day as a new adventure. It is an indulgence I am not yet willing to give up, and will perhaps partake in again." The queen might not like it, but she could hardly complain if Senka had trained an apprentice by then. Besides, the princess would support her. But that was for the future.

"Yes, a life spend wandering has its appeal, but there are draws to a pack life, as well. The warm press of bodies on a cold winter night. The hunt. The community. Pack song. The belonging." She offered him a teasing, knowing smile. "Is it better to hear a tale secondhand or watch it unfold before your eyes? There are some tales you can only find if you stick around to collect them."

She hummed, half in agreement, half in a complicated mix of half-formed thoughts and feelings towards Jonsi - understanding, lack of understanding, sympathy, disappointment, and perhaps a little pity mixed with envy. His was a different life. One very similar to hers, yet vastly different. Relateable, yet foreign enough that she could not quite reach it. But that was what made them unique.

Instead of dwelling on such things, she turned one of her more charming smiles on him. "I did promise not to keep you from it for long. Come. Dazzle me with another tale." After all, what better way to understand a storyteller than through his tales?

((Sounds like a plan to me. We can leave off here, unless you have anything to add.))