Boartusk Heights Some might say "euphoric", no, there's really no words for it

Wait, Ceara actually believed him? "I'm kidding, you dingus." He aimed to bump his shoulder against her's, but her misunderstanding made him realize - again - that he still had a long way to go in learning how to properly toe the line between serious and sarcasm. The closest he'd gotten to aggravating any pack was probably Tindome, but even then he hadn't been trespassing, and they hadn't been much of a pack. A man and his pregnant wife? Surely they had more pressing business to attend to, rather than trailing a harmless loiterer all the way across the wilds.

He stuck out his tongue in a playful quirk. Trouble would always find him, but he hoped it'd stay well away from her. Ceara's answers made sense, and Tuathal took them at face value. If Colt was anything like them, surely trouble would be stirring right behind him, too - hopefully only of the benign kind. "Bacana," he offered her one of her silly slang (assuming he knows her slang??), and flicked his ear, the word still tasting funny on his tongue, "Well, at least one of us is having luck with the folk down here. You'll introduce me, right?" He played it cool, but his nerves wrung with his final syllable. Provided they'd even let him in. Provided his sister even wanted him to stay. She'd only really asked him to walk her home - and that usually entailed leaving once his duty was done.