Deepwood Weald Diddly dee

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Her response of something like that elicited a small smirk to tug at the corners of the Ceannasach's lips, a small cant of his head given when she spoke, quite honestly, that she was scouting for herself. There could have been numerous things she was scouting for — shelter, a territory to spend a few days in, a territory with an abundance of prey and yet Arturo had a feeling that what she was looking for was none of these things. Given, that she carried no pack scent on her he had deduced that she wasn't on a mission for anyone else. “I'm a lot of things,” Arturo responded to her honestly. A gangster, a ambassador, a father, a Ceannasach, a mentor...the list went on. “but sometimes I'm a scout.” His interest was not in territories so much as it was in politics but as she was clearly a lone wolf his ambassador skills had no part to play here.

“So what is that you seek for yourself?” To the gangster it was a reasonable question. She had likely been exploring when he'd stumbled across her but as her unusual choice of words did not include the idea of further exploring the Weald he was curious to hear what her response would be.

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