Deepwood Weald Diddly dee

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Arturo knew the moment he had her attention, for he watched a girl pull at her lips. He blinked his eyes, like embers set aflame slowly at her, immediately amused by the flattery that left her lips. A sight for sore eyes, was he? The melanistic coywolf offered her a secretive half smile, something a little bit coy and a little bit dark. If there was one thing he found as utterly unpredictable about the Teekon Wilds it was that he was never able to guess how he'd be received by it's inhabitants. Some didn't notice his sharp, cunning features that painted him as coywolf while others looked upon him with contempt or disdain. She did not seem to be particularly bothered by the Ceannasach's mixed blood. “I've been here once or twice, before,” The smoky reticence of his deep, accented voice was lowered to a murmur. “Are you a scout, then?” Arturo inquired conversationally.

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