Honeyed Pasture for thou shalt not be cured

the voice that struck out over the sound of environmental noise was unfamiliar to him, but it did nothing to drop his guard. the jagged hairs along his shoulders and back seemed to come to life with rigid know-how; as though his entire life had been in preparation for this moment. had it not been for that single chuff of a voice, the fire-touched creature would have turned and departed as quickly as he had entered the scene. blackjaw knew that there was very little there to keep him, unless there was a peculiar turn of events. for all of the memories that had vanished from his mind, the behemoth knew the strength of his body well enough. 

"blackjaw," the aark responded in a baritone that hitched against the back of his throat and struggled to be emitted. there was no change in his facial features, though; he remained as steadfast as he had been upon his first arrival. "and who are you?" the behemoth then inquired with a slight canting of his skull. the jagged fiery fur along his neck and shoulders seemed to quiver there for only a moment before they held still and fast to their perch along his back. blackjaw waited to see if the stranger would respond, or if he would disappear from sight.