King Elk Forest resident mercenary checking in

a musclehead, just like he thought, though something about the fullness of his laugh puts delight at ease. just a little. tracking, though, now that's of interest. in a roundabout way. "we share the forest with an elk known as the king elk," the androgyne says, and pauses a moment to let the idea sink in. "think you'd be able to keep tabs on him and - maybe his cow, if she's still around? not to hunt him," he adds hastily, but, well, it would be helpful to have someone around who could actually pay attention to the herd when it warms up - or keep track if the elk actually has a child come spring. 

oh, right. delight de-puffs slightly, mollified by the other's good cheer. he doesn't trust it yet, but, well.. they do need the numbers. "my name is delight," he tells him, "and i'm our morwinyon. our alpha." (unlike the prince, the knight always clarifies: no one has any idea what the hell he means otherwise).