Ankyra Sound that good ship and crew was a bone to be chewed

ingram had been rousing along a rotten root for mushrooms (for wylla, naturally -- he found their aroma and taste positively nauseating) when a call filtered through the forest. it was a light and gentle song, and reminded him in a way of a birdsong. he pulled from the entangled mess and made for the borders at a ground-covering clip.

there was a wolf attending the borders, but the way she stood drew his vision to the ground naturally -- as if she were standing over something and protecting it. on the thin rags of snow there was the corpse of a fish, with a strange translucent stone placed carefully atop it. ingram's gaze shifted from the supplication to the wolf, who reminded him in many ways of the southern shores; a soft seagoing tan and cream, with white-capped tips. she painted a pretty picture, but she was still feet away from his home -- instinctively his tail went up and he raised his muzzle above hers, indicating she was too close for comfort despite the offering she brought. "need something?" he asked, trying to adopt wylla's unwelcome inflection but failing at mastering it.