King Elk Forest through bog and brier

The howl that rose through the trees of Tindómë was hoarse and prickled at Mato’s senses as he dithered between concern and his abrupt lack thereof. Was it disuse that caused the strange tone to the stranger’s howl? Or something of a plague sort? As he makes his way to the section of the border that the call originated from there is a reluctance to the Morwinyon’s approach: a defensiveness as he prepares to quickly assess and deduce should he need to be abrupt in chasing off. He’s not had to do it yet and …in truth…he does not wish to. Yet, he will. He’s not so altruistic as to endanger the whole pack for the sake of a stray. Perhaps this sudden lack of apathy comes with his superiority complex ( and yes, he still suffers from it ) or perhaps it is because of Brienne’s prolonged and unexplained absence. Her distance has bothered him and now he is haunted by her disappearance and failure to return. He tucks these thoughts aside for the moment as he approaches the scene, noting — with pride and without surprise — that Delight has already beaten him here and has already stated the obvious ( and arguably the most important ) question: what was her business here? Mato scents at the air as he moves to stand at Delight’s side: soothed by the deduction that he does not smell any sort of illness. Pacified in that respect, the druid settles his appraising, apple green gaze upon the woman, awaiting her response.

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