Dragoncrest Cliffs all is well

Artaax tests the word out for himself, slowly making the sounds. It is not exact but his puppy tongue is foreign to words and as a muscle, needs repetition. Her ears sweep forward as he looks down at the shadow on the ground. “Sha. Trikova,” she says with a smile, turning to give him room so their followers can mingle below.

After a moment, he growls and bounces forward, tumbling into her legs as she drops her nose quickly to inspect the fallen form. A rumble starts in her chest as she nudges him around and pressing her cold nose wherever she can reach.