Two Rivers Isle he jests at scars that never felt a wound

It was not the answer he expected but he was not surprised to hear it. Jagwyr was a world weary sort, cynical and pessimistic (realistic he would argue).

"Fair enough," he said. There were numerous questions that could be asked and they had fleeting come to his mind. But these days neither the black wolf's interests nor his cares stretched too far past his own paws. He was ready to leave, too. Had he intended to stay a while longer, he might have plied for more details to both pass the time and make further use of Raven's company.

He stood. Stretching out his thick forelimbs, he briefly stretched and then shook his coat. "Maybe you'll have better luck with your neighbors here," he commented with a grunt. Jagwyr turned away then, saying over his shoulder, "later," as he made to leave.