Blackbeak Bluff bon temps

“What does it matter?”

The question fell from his lips abruptly and he furrowed his brows at her. For an offer such as this, the ghostly figure imagined that she would leap for such an opportunity. It was not often that he would propose something of the sort. The dark girl was not in a position to be questioning his motives for the offer, though, and he made it abundantly clear that he was displeased with her inquiries. The curl of his lip and the ruffling of his already ragged coat would have been enough body language to demonstrate his feelings on the matter. Still, he suspected that she would want a more compelling reason for a man like himself to take her under his wing.

“I'm old and don't have any children of my own. I'd like to teach someone what I've learned,” he lied to her with a small shrug. “There are others who will teach you as well, and some who are softer of heart for you to... make friends.” As he said it, he wondered if that was something that young girls sought. He did not rightfully know what most wolves wanted at her age, but he had given it a good effort and faced her with an expectant stare.