Larksong Grotto fears

dauntless' hazel eyes more green then they are brown today, his gaze flickering over her in a quick assessment. she is small, dainty from what he can tell but mirza knows that size doesn't always mean much of anything. he finds what he seeks in his quick assessment: that her body language does not appear hostile and that he will not have to fight for a drink at the pool. in fact, as she calls out to him, it becomes apparent to dauntless that she's being rather good-natured and his posture, previously stiff with weariness, softens ever so slightly. not enough to let his guard down — the gruesome picture of burr's blood pool and entrails strewn about jump to the forefront of his mind and dauntless wonders if his friend had let his guard down too soon. yet, dauntless is an extroverted beast and confident to boot. burr's death might have shaken him and drove home the point that youth did not grant immortality but it could not erase what had already begun to cement as his personality. death, he'd came to learn, was simply a natural part of life.

"hey," he returns with a neutral flick of his tail behind his haunches. "just needed to get away from home for a few hours." dauntless replies with a lofty shrug of his broad shoulders, favoring what is more or less the truth. he loves morningside and he loves his family but there are points when a guy just needs a few hours on his own ...or more accurately in the company of a lovely stranger. "how about you?" dauntless inquires in return.