Dragoncrest Cliffs you can't even trust the air you breathe

tachyon was imbued by fatigue, so tired was he he didn't realize he had never once offered the small gathering his name. and while it was only a name, a name was clandestine -- it tied a person to an identity, and an identity to memory. while tachyon may not have been intelligent enough to realize what exactly the worth was in exchanging names, he knew it forded a sense of security among fresh-faced parties.

he recalled aduin had supplied his name already -- clearly the timid wolf was more brushed up to date with etiquette than tachyon. his gaze swung to the female who had disappeared from view and then back to the slate agouti before him. "tachyon." he was called to mind (albeit unwillingly) that the duo knowing his name meant he was tangible now -- identifiable in a way a lone grey wolf would have otherwise not been. with a sleek roll of his shoulders he stirred. he would allow a pause to see if sebastian offered his own moniker before leaving their company, but if he did not, it would not rock his boat.