Serpent Lake have you tried turning it off and on again?

Almost without hesitation the wolf spoke on his lost love. Suzanne. The first of his witches. He found it strange the brown wolf would use such a word. Witch didn't normally resonate with the same fondness he spoke of, but he supposed, in some ways, every woman was a witch. They captured with black magic and made mere adolescents out of grown wolves. Or perhaps it had to do with the way these females he spoke of were burned at the stake of memory. He did not know. Either way, he did not press any further into this wolf's history for he asked instead for Kero to share his own.

"I don't have a talent for storytelling," he admitted as he put his thoughts together. His past... was very much his own past and it wasn't something he shared often or ever. "Truthfully there's not much to tell. I was born. I was raised. I grew up. I wandered. I roamed. I found my way here." Kero shrugged. Was there more to it than that? Yes. There were a lot more details he didn't find relevant enough to share. Tartok cared nothing for a wolf's personal history. His own fell into the category of "no-wolf cares anymore."

"I'm afraid I'm not all that exciting." He said this with a slightly bashful shrug. "I wouldn't know where to begin with a tale of any kind."