She sat on a log, shivering a little in her makeshift wrappings, with another bowl of thick and gritty stew in her lap. The werewolves talked in low voices among themselves. The women and children mostly communicated in that strange Nordic language, but the adult males—the fighters and the leaders—used English readily enough. Some of them didn’t seem to speak that other language at all, and given the preponderance of English features among that group, she would lay odds that they were the bitten werewolves rather than the bred ones.