Shadewood Walking ghost

Her questions seemed to be of natural curiosity, something that the boy was all too familiar with yet, in his oblivious gestures, he failed to take note of the underlying seriousness of her words. "Shink," he voiced soon enough, his auds pricked with interest, "And yes, I guess you could say I was looking for a group to join." Bluegrass Meadow had been a magnificent force, one in which the boy had quite literally grown up to adore, yet their reign of prosperity had been swept away like saplings in a storm. The last he had seen of his kin was of a straggling band of a few canids before he had diffused into the shadows of the wilderness. "Say," he spoke calmly, turning his focus back towards the stunning she-wolf, "Are you of a pack?"