Firestone Hot Springs bade bade deshon mein

Though his body was wearing down, his mind and senses were still youthful. He paid careful attention to the male, listening to his words and the way the pitch of his voice changed—lie. It was not something so easily hidden, as one’s reaction to their own lies were unconscious things; not even Kove could fully rid his voice of the universal tell. And although he knew that the name did not truly belong to the other, he made no comments and his expression remained neutral, the knowledge kept to himself. Instead, he settled on saying, “What a unique name.” Then again, to him, most were. Despite having spent several years away from the north and within the wilds, he was still surprised by just how many names existed that he’d never heard before. “My name’s Kove,” he added. Usually, this would be the part where he said it’s a pleasure to meet you, but he’d yet to decide on whether it was or not.

The tone of their conversation was switched, dropping the previously casual feel that it had in favour of a more professional approach—and with the change came questions, of course. “I was born in the north, far from here,” he answered truthfully, his words chosen carefully. “As for where I’ve been living—since I’m sure that’s what you mean—you shouldn’t ask questions that you don’t actually want the answer to.” Blackfeather had fallen from the heights that it’d once reached under Meldresi’s reign, he’d thought that for a while now, but it was still a name not easily forgotten. He had no doubt that the wolf—this Vishal fellow—knew of the woods, and had likely picked up on its scent.

Moving on, he asked, “What’s the name of your pack? I don’t believe I’ve met any of your members before now.” And if he had, he couldn’t remember, or perhaps names had never been exchanged.