Dragoncrest Cliffs With no more words to fill these borders

He did catch the attention of the strangely marked pup, but not in the way he'd been hoping. He lacked socialization skills and didn't know how to properly start or carry a conversation, and hoped that by tossing moss around, she would simply jump up and join him. Instead, Bat propped herself up and asked why he was doing it. Immediately bashful about it, Ephraim made no move to reclaim the fallen moss ball. She hadn't made fun of him at all, but he felt the heat in his face as though she had, poor boy.

"Playin'," he answered quietly with a soft tap-tap of his tail on the thick floor. It was obvious by now that he didn't really know how to be a pup in this place. There hadn't been any rules in Grimnismal, no expectations; play had ruled his days there. And then they had fled and there hadn't been time for play, lessons or direction. They'd been busy doing everything they could to get by. Ephraim was about as well adjusted as a fish in a desert when it came to what was expected of him here in Drageda, and his development was a little behind, so Bat's serious nature threw him off guard. He didn't realize it was, well, just who she was.

"You play?" he asked, tentative, with ears swiveling hopefully forward.