Neverwinter Forest The wolf and the yew

The forest carried the crisp bite of early evening, the fading light filtering through the thick canopy in fractured, golden beams. Luhtar moved with his usual slow stride, broad frame pushing through out the underbrush with a lack of ease. Tonight, his purpose was specific, his direction clear—Melisande.

He had yet to speak with her since Forneskja's forming. She evaded him, somehow... or he evaded her. As he went, he gnawed unconsciously at his bottom lip, teeth dragging along the rubbery flesh there.

Tonight, he intended to speak with her.

He found her near the clearing where the moonlight began to soften the edges of the forest, her pale fur glowing beneath the fiery sunset. For a moment, he paused, watching as she moved—deliberate, poised, flowery, and entirely different from her brother.

“Melisande,” his voice was softer than usual as he called out. When her head turned, his dull eyes caught upon hers and he forcefully tore his own away with mild bashfulness.

“Have you got a moment?”

for @Melisande

Night would soon be upon the Neverwinter Forest. Sharp rays of sunlight cut through the dense trees that made up her new home. Already the temperature was dropping, the chill masking the comforting scent of soil and plant matter. Another scent had joined that of the sleepy forest. Masculine and familiar in passing. A man of Forneskja that she hadn't had the guts to speak with. He was large and seemed friendly enough. Perhaps he was the perfect wolf to begin socializing with. 

His voice was soft when he spoke, like he expected her to spook like a deer. It was for the best she decided. First her head, then the rest of her turned to face the man. His pelt reminded her of stone, like he himself was made of it. She hoped his personality didn't match. Luhtar's eyes never stayed on her own for long. Was it her scars? It made some people uncomfortable, but she couldn't help it really. Angling her face in a way to show less of her scars Melisande shot him a welcoming smile. Of course, I've just been waiting for the moon to rise, Melisande answered, her eye flicking towards the darkening sky. 

Her brother wouldn't let someone who would harm them join, so her safety wasn't a concern. Only her inability to hold a conversation with anyone new. What is it that you needed?

“I, uh,” he began, voice gruff and carefully quiet, “we never talk. I see you in Forneskja, always busy, or I’m busy,” he paused, shifting his weight. “Wanted to fix that.”

He cleared his throat, trying to find better words.

“We in same pack now. I think… good to know each other. I not good with words,” he admitted, gaze lingering on her paws before daring to rise again to her face, though he kept it polite, not forcing contact if it made her uneasy.

“You Melisande. I’m Luhtar,” he said, in case she didn’t know his name.