Sleeping Dragon a quiet procurement

Hers was a particular type of care. Lucani lacked any kind of sweetness that might endear others to her in a motherly kind of way — no, she was not motherly — but she had a caring instinct. And it manifested itself on a number of levels. The first was of course the desire to cure ills and mend wounds, an instinct intensified by lingering guilt at having abandoned her previous pack (albeit for good reasons). The other level was deeper and more personal. She wanted to encourage the weak and help the ascending ascend. She wanted to hear their stories, and guide them to greater chapters. She did not dote or croon or melt — and so she did none of this when Cirrus seemed to wilt at her methods.

She ensured he'd lain down correctly on the elder leaves, but looked up at the scent of food and the arrival of a pretty face. Lucani's eyes lingered on it (the face, not the food) for a moment before she said, thank you — perhaps you can spare some for our... hostage? Captive? Victim? guest.

Now there was a new figure of interest upon the scene, one that Lucani had not encountered before. My name is Lucani, she introduced herself to the bright-eyed hunter.