Grouse Thicket cry wolf [malice]

just thought you should know, your reply made me so happy i couldn't help but write back immediately. i wanted to laugh but it's 11:26 and my family is sleeping XD

Oh, such wonder! Such beauty! Ysengrin cannot help but laugh again and again, joyously, sweetly he nearly sings! His actions have made the lady dear to smile, to grace himself with such magnificence that he bursts into a charming aria, for he is not one to contain his joy. no, ysen is a boy who wishes only to share - and so be it, if this gem has caused reason for his sharing, then he will gladly go out and spread it! Presence should not dally here at all if they do not want trouble.
a-ha! she speaks again, gifting him with yet another sentence, joining in his nightingale melody. and witty, too! truly, he has been graced.
ysen dips his head; acknowledges the return of humourous banter. she is wise as she is lovely, he decides, and in his delight, he forgets the carcass at his feet. why, why waste his time on material things when he can find solace in wit and speech? in the tongue of wolves, sating his ever-present desire for knowledge? why, why, why? his trip here has been worthwhile, and ysengrin beams.
"presence never calls for trouble, and neither do i. i have given you my word, that an hour later you shall not see me in this forest of grouse."
I thought I was looking upon a possible settler just now - right before me, and my vision is seldom blurry. oh, oh, oh... she seeks his answer on if he would make his home here. a lone wolf, he? he has only just reached these lands! but ah - such is the nature of the world, so ysen supposes. and yet, his joyful visage sees momentous sorrow flit across it, quick enough to be unseen except by the most keen-sighted. "indeed not, good madam," ysen admits, "this wolf does not doubt the integrity of your eyes."
he gives a small, curious smile, unlike all the previous bright-eyed ones. "is the nobleborn offering?"
Who we are is of no importance to a simple wanderer - only the ones who want to join our retreat have the pleasure of knowing just exactly who we are as a whole, and they have all sworn they would not call out our name to strangers.
"a simple wanderer, that is this wolf. but even simple wanderers must one day grow their roots. wolves, wolves are not meant to be leaves floating where the wind blows." he is wistful. he already knows his roots, for his roots are in the land-across-time, across the waves that are blue-upon-blue upon blue. but as all trees do, he might send seeds out among new soils and mayhaps they may discover their roots deep here.
"for if it is indeed an outstretched arm, then this wanderer accepts. but i must first finish exploring this land in full. this land, being these parts. already, i wish to wander near the lake... but if the good madam is offering this simple, weary boy soil to grow his roots... i would dearly cherish that."
You need not fear, you need not tremble, just as so many before you did not - yet they had done so regardless, she says, and ysengrin finds his smile returning to his face once more.
"they do not know that trembling is not the only option, then!"