Neverwinter Forest the death of pablo

Kyron was a hodgepodge of good and bad traits, like any well-rounded individual, with timing to boot. Goldhawk gave a light chuff of amusement at his comment (what with its "dying to tell me" double meaning), but didn't comment, for his attention was respectfully on Eshe. His ears and nose twitched hungrily at the gift of the rabbit — but he blinked, and resisted it for now. The Lady explained the newness of her pack, and that there was a Lord that went by the impressive name of Scimitar, and that, it seemed... was more or less it in terms of the acceptance process.

Ah, he wished he'd made his usual first impression on these two. His show of majestic respect and skills had been subpar thanks to his injuries and the humiliations of the night before. But, most of all, he wished he was in the right mindset for all of this. Being brought to a fledgling pack, a warrior with promise, vouched for by a man who'd saved him from an icy death, welcomed by a Lady of certainty and grace. That seemed like a very honourable and enjoyably dramatic introduction to a pack. He would have to bring himself round to seeing that.

I'm infinitely grateful m'lady, and intend to leap into action the moment I find my leapin' paws. As to your concern, he piped up, ignoring Kyron's apology, I spar and hunt like the rest of them, but kill for sport I do not, wot. I wouldn't so much as box an ear for a giggle.