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Runa didn't much care for the way Thorgrim had arranged matters between Dalla and Gaved without so much as asking her. She knew Gaved ought to be settled down with a wife, but she had a dark suspicion that Dalla was a pawn of Thorgrim's. Runa would much rather Gaved marry one of her pawns. Unfortunately, that was no longer a possibility.

But Runa couldn't ignore the unwelcome addition to her family forever, and so she presented herself at the opening of Dalla and Gaved's (and Stygg's and whatshername's, what a harem her son was collecting) den.

"Dalla, my dear? Are you in?" Runa called, her voice sweet. She turned to the thrall beside her and said in a much less gentle tone, "Put that down, beast. And leave." The thrall set down its burden -- a tightly rolled leather bundle -- and fled.

"I've a wedding gift for you, daughter."

Runa reached for the bundle and unrolled it with a swipe of her paw. It was stuffed with pretty crimson feathers. She didn't know what bird they had come from and didn't care to know. Runa was no plucker of carrion. But she had sent the thrall out with strict orders, and the feathers were quite bright and clean.

"I don't pretend to know much about your art, Dalla, but I had hoped you might find these useful," Runa said. Feathers had seemed like a sure bet. The gods alone knew what kinds of rocks or bones crafters used, but a feather was a feather was a feather.

Gift given, Runa sailed past the crafter and into the den, leaving Dalla to pick up after her. She gazed around with a critical eye. "Very nice, daughter. Gaved's saltwives are keeping things quite tidy for you. It must be a challenge with so much crafting material to keep track of."

It might be because Runa was instinctively, innately bitchy.

It might be because Runa honestly didn't care what kind of shenanigans males got up to in their spare time, and lacked empathy for females who did.

Either way, she blithely misinterpreted Dalla's frustrated tone.

"They're still thralls? Hm. Don't worry, I'll talk to him if you wish," Runa said mildly. "I would be frustrated as well. He really should take them as saltwives if he's going to carry on with them in your den. It would be such a bother to have illegitimate b*****d cubs underfoot. So untoward." She tsked. Males. Foolish, all of them.

It was all Runa could do not to roll her eyes. "No matter how he elevates them, no former thrall would be able to usurp a true Freeborn lioness's place," Runa said. Perhaps this Dalla was more like Lena than she'd thought. If Thorgrim took a blind three-legged cheetah as a saltwife it would probably end up ordering Lena around. Pathetic.

"Ah well. It's of no importance, really." Runa waved a paw idly. She didn't really care what kind of arrangements her son had with his wife and his two thralls, as long as whatever they did didn't end up reflecting badly on her.

"I really came to see how you two are doing. Are you settling in well? Are you getting along? I would imagine that it's a big adjustment for a lioness that has lived for so many long seasons without any male company."

So. This lioness of Gaved's had a bit of fire in her after all. Well, then. Runa supposed it was better than being a detestable milksop like Lena, but she couldn't say she approved of this acid-tongued wench being partnered with her wonderful son.

"I am sure he is the perfect Stormborn husband as he is," Runa said, her tone a trifle cold. "Any Reaver worth his salt may be a bit rough-tongued. You haven't married some gutless, witless foreigner, girl." Really! Did she expect him to simper and fawn over her? The notions some lionesses got fixed in their heads these days were revolting.

"And as to your ... fondness ... for male company, I hope you've given that up these days. You're married now, it would be shameful for you to carry on like a tramp!"

Okay, now Runa was getting kind of pissed. Dalla was calling her old? Old?

Oh no. This new wife of Gaved's would not do at all. She was altogether too rude and outspoken for any sensible lion to deal with. Runa couldn't imagine how Gaved was putting up with her. She hoped for his sake that the b***h did go out and disgrace herself with another male. Then Gaved could be honorably rid of the vile wench, and perhaps kill her into the bargain.

"I may seek out a second husband in time," Runa said. By dint of tremendous effort she kept her voice calm and level, but it was approximately as frosty as the Antarctic ice sheet. "Luckily, I won't have to find one through a matchmaker. I've borne cubs before, so no one will think me barren. Ah ... how old are you, dear?"

Runa smiled in return.

Runa wanted to smack this lioness in her fat mouth, but that would be very unseemly. Proper Freeborn ladies generally did not get into brawls with their daughters-in-law.

Not usually, anyways.

She huffed, somewhat disgusted by the thought of this uppity b***h carrying Gaved's litter. Had Gaved actually said such a thing? Was it possible her son was infatuated with this appalling lioness? Surely not. She would have to talk to him, just in case. She knew Thorgrim had probably filled him full of stern warnings never to strike Dalla, but Runa had never seen a lioness more deserving of a good swat on the rump to keep her in line.

"Well. I hope that you can carry this huge litter of Gaved's," Runa snapped. "If not, I suppose he can always take those other two lionesses you have lurking around here." Ha!

"If you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to," Runa said, and turned without another word to breeze on out. If she stayed any longer she was sure she would wind up fighting with Dalla.