Sun Mote Copse Sleeping well, no bad dreams

"My mistake," offered Khalba. Sometimes, he forgot that there were foreign wolves among them that were not versed in the Malkaria's language or structure. He couldn't hold Bastian's ignorance against him when he had not yet had a chance to learn their customs. The other male would soon learn, as it was Ar-Khalba's job to teach him. Soon, Bastian would fall under his direct jursidiction. "A Kurvat is, what they'd call in the more blunt tongue of this place, the Grove-Watcher," he explained. "It is a title prestige among our culture -- the highest a male can achieve."  

"We are to live semi-seperately," he continued. "This grove is a place for the men of the Malkaria, and it is here that you will make your den. The Kurvat oversees." Ar-Khalba's gaze rested upon the stranger's face, where he studied the male's expression thoroughly. Surely, the untested heathan must have had questions. "Is there anything you wish to ask of me?"