Dragoncrest Cliffs Every face along the boulevard is a dreamer just like you

When he was seemingly accepted as company with ease, he picked a spot a few short lengths away to sit himself down. He was afforded a good look at just how young the boy looked. Home, and here, then he couldn't help a short nod. "Really? That's nice--if a reminder of home is good to you." Hard to say. Some homes of his he had missed. Others far less. "It isn't quite like anywhere I had lived before," he said. Once, near the sea--a valley and a hill over. Never so intimately beside it, almost constantly, here on these cliffs.

As for his eyes, it wasn't anything he had not heard before. "I don't know, they have been for as long as I can remember." And as Artaax evidenced, were heritable enough that perhaps his own sire had passed them down. He did not have an answer so simple; he had never seen the wolf, of course.  "Probably for the same reason yours are like they are." Whatever pattern out there decided it--it just was. "They work just fine though," he blinked them Ephraim's way.