Moonspear Texts from you and sex from you

As a chuff sounded from behind him, he was made to emerge from his mind and turn his attention towards the stranger. The way in which she held herself was friendly enough, and so he’d turned to face her entirely. A smile had filled out his features and lit up his gaze, whilst his tail swayed idly behind him. He’d yet to spend time seeking out the other members of the pack so that he might introduce himself, having always felt it best to get a feel for the territory itself before meeting those that resided within it. She was to be his first packmate met, and so he was hopeful that it might go well. It was that desire that had made him nod after she’d mentioned how they’d never met before, agreeing with her in spite of his belief that the statement was, surely, not one that was meant to be either agreed with or denied. It was a mere observation, after all, but he’d moved his head anyways.

“It’s nice to meet you, Pyx,” the foreigner voiced, dipping his head in the process. “My name’s Alastor.” He’d abandoned his old habit of sharing his surname, too, having learned that doing so was not a common ritual. Still would it be shared if requested, but often, thus far, had he tried his best to keep from just letting it fall out with his given name. Knowing that he’d been successful in keeping his introduction simple, his mind moved on to the topic of conversation that was introduced. It was always nice to meet another that valued plants, though he truly knew nothing about them. His focus was on flowers alone—their names, appearances, and even fragrances—for that was what he’d grown up learning about. Their uses and the like had never been taught to him, nor had he requested to learn; the Greek liked the flowers for their beauty, not their potential uses.

At the mention of herbology, the male had shaken his head. “I don’t know anything about herbs or poisons,” he revealed, unashamed by his lack of knowledge. “I like flowers. I can tell you their names and where to find them, but I don’t know what any of them could be used for.” It didn’t matter much to him what they could do, either. No matter if they were poisonous or capable of healing the wounded, he liked them all the same. It was for their beauty and what they represented that he adored them, as well as because it had been his mother teaching him about them so long ago.