The Heartwood i'm a ghost of you, you're a ghost of me

Forever was a long time to belong to a single place. The warhound lifted his brows upward at this response and then nodded his head solemnly. Some were bound to their homes; this was something that he understood better than most. While he would never choose the forest for himself, there were plenty who found that to be their sacred place. His mother had been one of those, and look what had happened to the home she spoke so fondly of. Of all the things, at least the titan knew that his ocean would never burn away.

A question was posed by the boy's mouthing. Ford leaned forward and cupped his ears to ensure that if there were any words, he would not miss them. The sound from the back of the stranger's throat was something like a strangled gurgle, but barely above a whisper. It seemed that he was intrigued as to why the titan would be so far from his preferred environment. Ford created a knowing smile on his painted features and nodded his head.

“Searching for loners who are seeking a home and a calling,” he answered with confidence. The glint in his gaze did not change, but his posture demonstrated that he did not have many concerns about reaching his goal. The lands seemed to be rife with potential; the warhound needed only to weed through them and find the sharpest pieces.