The Heartwood he said to me child i'm afraid for your soul

Vaati would have continued on his path, had the stranger not been completely doused in blood. Startling it may have been, knowing that Blackfeather rested not too far away, he found it rather unsurprising. At a glance Vaati assumed the other to be a resident of the dark woods simply by visual appeal, however, quick scent check proved otherwise and so did the source of the scene which mimicked that of a bloody massacre. It was not wolf blood. He makes his presence known in growling lowly to the other; a sound born not distinctly out of hostility but neither lacking it. Vaati had encountered enough oddballs in his lifetime to be able to tell with accuracy, the difference between the average and the unusual. Yet the severity of each individual's unique esotericism varied in each case, and he remained unknowing as to exactly why the other found himself comfortable in the eviscerated digestive tract of a carcass. In that sense, the other reminded him unfondly of the borders of Blackfeather Woods as a single entity, peculiar and ominously alluring to the eye simply because of his gory display. Like something you couldn’t look away from, whether out of curiosity or horror. Vaati found rather quickly that he wanted to know more. “Is it comfortable?” He inquired, indicating to the cocoon of flesh the other had made his bed in. Whether or not the other was capable of conversation meant less to him than simply gathering an answer, having never considered of hollowing out his prey before. Perhaps it was worth a try. He wondered silently if his victims would hold the same effect.