Sindra let his words sink through the swirl of shadows in her mind. Spoken now and here, they carried more weight than the ephemeral whispers of the sleeping, dreaming serpent. Wolves, dragons, harpies; she knew of the dragons, as the banner of that last surviving House of old Valyria, and the harpies, as the symbol of terrible Ghis. But wolves? Absence of dragons?
The serpent stirred, but did not wake.
Sindra felt drained, the night on the wreckage was restless sleep and the bed looked inviting. She glanced back at the Signori and bowed low. "By your leave, Signori."