Moonspear wilding like that coyote

The answer seemed vague, but time was a relative, fluid thing. Dirge was not unlike others of his shared blood—time simply was not accounted for beyond sunrise and sunset, and of course the changing of the seasons. Despite the vagueness, it did tell Dirge enough once the follow-up statement came along. Long enough indeed; it was just as evident that his counterpart was better settled. He seemed more natural in his comfort, if nothing else.

"Seems we have equal knowledge of one another," he stated with a thin smile. "What would you like to know?" He had no intentions of laying his life story bare for the world to pass around, but selective questions were far easier to answer. Perhaps this was part of his integration as well, another voice on high to pick him apart and decide if he was worth his weight in potting soil. He would choose his words carefully.