Blackfeather Woods true north

his eyes were pale and haunted jade in the gloom of the wood; relmyna found their colour entrancing, and wondered by where he had blessed with such. yet it was not the task at hand for such considerations. she lay her eyes upon his withers, his flank; she read what outline of the man she might. adaptation is often required of those who join us, came her noiseless answer, slow that he might see her words. these days relmyna did not attempt to hide the terrible scarring of her lips, and made no adjustment now.
mou was given a gentle, knowing smile; blackfeather had so quickly become his home that the listener was beginning to recall no time before his arrival among them. what is your name? she inquired, gaze returning to the stranger.