Swiftcurrent Creek acqua più blu

His fellow child (or so he incorrectly assumed) spun a macabre tale. Tambourine wasn't quite sure what to make any of it and remained quiet well after Armand had finished explaining. On one hand, he sort of wanted to offer Armand a family and home, since he didn't have one. But on the other, he was definitely very hesitant on account of the boy's background. Although his reasons for overthrowing his leader made sense, all if it was a lot more drama than the youngster was prepared to bring home with him.

"I'm sorry all of that happened to you." He paused, wondering what he should say next. He wished there was something he could do but this was over his head, if he was honest with himself. Besides, Armand had just said he didn't like other wolves and didn't seek friends. "Well, I'm glad you're not dead, even if you aren't." He paused. "I guess I should get going." He took a single step as he spoke, eyeing the creek again before glancing at the sandy wolf. What was he supposed to say to someone who didn't want a home or friends but did have a death wish? "I hope you're find what you're looking for" just didn't feel appropriate. "Um, take care!"

And without another word—and before he could lose his nerve—Tambourine simply plunged into the frigid waters. He began doggy paddling, though fortunately it was rather shallow and it wasn't long before his toes touched solid ground again. He hoisted himself onto the far side, shook out his soaking pelt, then peered over his shoulder at Armand one last time. He threw him a little grin, then began trotting back toward the Keep.