Raven's Watch and at once i knew i was not magnificent

Oh no! Amoxtli is enjoying her company so much right now. <3

The sheepdog watched as the woman drew her ears forward and caught the raspy breath that had fallen from his lips. It was nothing like the beautiful voice that she possessed, and he found himself drawn to the sound of it more than the treasure that was clasped in the beak of the raven up above. Because he lacked the ability to speak for himself, it did not make him a bitter creature. He had found the lack of a voice an opportunity to listen to the words of those around him. Many stories had been told to the Tervuren because of his listening skills; he only wished – at times – that he could share them with others. But instead, Amoxtli housed the tales inside of him like a quiet storybook with a lock and no key. He could enjoy the memory of them, but could never allow someone to open him up and look inside.
 
The woman introduced herself as Menta and he flagged his tail behind him with an eager expression on his face. Then, as she looked to him somewhat expectantly, he flattened his ears to his skull and found himself at the most difficult part of meeting someone new. While lowering his crown slightly and moving forward as if to nudge underneath her chin, the halfling made a face that suggested she could give him whatever name she wished. It would not have been the first time that someone had simply called him something so that they could communicate with him. Along with the stories that had been shared with the Corten boy, he kept a memory of the names that had been given to him by kind strangers. Menta could be one of them too.
 
More clamoring overhead, and the newly acquainted Menta asked the wolfdog if their feathered friend was attempting to break the treasure in his beak. Amoxtli turned to her with a small smile and nodded his head to her, suggesting that her guess was absolutely correct. If only he could manage to break the bird’s concentration, there was a possibility that the corvid could drop the item down where the two wolves stood. Of course, the Tervuren was not longer worried that the creamy girl beside him would attempt to thieve the treasure away. She had made great effort to ensure that she was a friendly face to the halfling.
 
Another question fell from her lips and it caused the wolfdog to turn to face her with an inquisitive expression on his features. She wanted to know if he needed to break something, but he could not understand what there was he could possibly break. Confusion etched his face and he shook his shaggy head from side to side to tell her that he needn’t break a single thing. Then, with a quiet and ragged whine from the bottom of his throat, he pointed his nose toward the treasure in the bird’s beak and rose upward on his hind legs. Though the sheepdog could not explain to the sweet Menta that he was a purveyor of treasures and all things odd, he could do his very best to answer her questions. Oxtli only hoped that she would not grow tired of his lack of vocal chords and leave him on his own. He very much enjoyed her company.