Haunted Wood never make a change

The mention of family, starting a life, and other such milestones caused a tilt of head. Questioning. It was unlike the inky drifter to see such things as fortune due to poor upbringing. The meaning behind this thought process still eluded the wanderer. Perhaps it always would. There was more to the female's story and the wolf listening quietly without prejudice or judgement. If anything, the explanation was fascinating, for how similar it mirrored the dark male's own struggle with worth and importance. "Oh," he mimicked. 

Her interest in his interest prompted tail to wag just slightly in the grass, a glint of eye and a leveling of muzzle regarding her once more with very rapt intrigue. "Shiny things. Things rare or glittering. Anything that really catches the eye," came the explanation, standing swiftly in one motion to inch a little closer to the charcoal-dusted yearling. "Do fortunes reside at your living establishment?" he questioned slyly, accentuating the overzealous words in a sudden shift of formality. "I'll follow," he mentioned. What he was following for was up to the female. To her house. To her treasure trove. To anything, really. 

Paws flirted ever closer, removing the wide gap between the two in a very silky breach of trust, hoping the mannerism was just tender enough to remain nonchalant.