Sun Mote Copse mention our ghosts, our knotted spines

his attention has been drawn singularly to the silvery figure, not attempting to dismiss the girl by his side but, well, she's been rather quiet and he is deep in his own head. she did speak now, though, pulling his funny-pale gaze toward her, brow still slightly furrowed. they are looking - of course they're looking, he'd assumed as much, no one serious about pack would really try to start one with just a pair.

oh but. suddenly he feels he's in an interview of some sort. delight's intentions are written all over his face, aren't they, and their discussion of the territory slides past his ears unheeded. delight is always craving attention and unsure what to do with it when it's brought down around his head. he manages to listen despite it. tindómë... he doesn't say it out loud but he can feel the sound of it in his mouth and it is good. mato explains the premise, and "trades," the wisp murmurs, comtemplative but a little uncertain. he'd not gotten the opportunity to ... well, it didn't matter now; this is his fresh start. "i haven't any, yet," he announces a touch defiantly, then softens. "umbut, it seems that if you're looking, and i'm here, so. and i'm a fast learner." he'll have to pick something, but mato did mention apprenticeships, and despite his tender ego delight doesn't really mind starting at the bottom. he can catch up, he's sure of it.