Fox's Glade silvertongue

Bearclaw Valley!
 
Ah, he thought to himself with a pang of regret. The smoky creature had been hoping she would provide more direct means of where she called home. Tadec turned from her and looked through the terrain as though in search of this notch in the earth where Indra lived. When his gaze was back to her, she had inquired about Frith and Tadec’s home. At this, his expression gave way to surprise. So closely interwoven with his familial culture, the thief had never realized that she might not know of who he spoke when he mentioned the great god of the sun. It was pleasing for him to be able to tell her.
 
Pointing high in the sky with the tip of his narrow muzzle, the crow held his pose and then returned his sights to her. “Frithrah is Lord Sun,” he explained to her in what could have been a purr. The thought of the bright orb above them was one that showered him in a comfort he had known nowhere else. It was Indra’s second inquiry that cast a shadow on his features and turned his small smile into a blank slate. His gaze was cold for such warm color. “Tadec has home far away. Time for new home, perhaps here,” he explained somewhat curtly. The dark young thing had no means of providing her with details, but the subject of his home was a difficult one to approach.