Lost Creek Hollow deep within the most sacred grove

The wolf did not seemed particular bothered by his lack of composure. At least if he had, then he was expert in not letting it show, which very well may have been the case. He had always been told that there were strange lands outside of their little world. Individuals that were perhaps not so forthright in their intentions, ones who sought to seize their own gain than rather share it with the collective world. He knew the world to be a very vast place, so vast in fact that when posed with the question of having to talk about himself he did not know where to begin.

But the wolf—Terance—had at least offered him a stepping stone. An introduction and the name to their little unfixed corner of the world. He could have grimaced at the name, a lost creek that branched through a hollow sounded like some sort of name out of a childish story he would have told to his own. Only then did he desire so strongly to train his eyes to the creek again, to the stones, and wonder what the bubbling waters below had to say. Shame the crows went away, he thought, for at least they may have offered him a distraction.

All eyes upon him; he drew in a breath.

”Well, I am a healer as I've no doubt explained. A traveler, evidenced in my appearance. I am no good at speaking of myself, so what would you like to know instead? My intentions?” he inquired in return. It was a blunt approach from someone so meager, but he hoped his honesty would net him favor. Please don't let it be hopes and dreams, he kept to himself, for even the harshness of the wilting world around him seemed to seep inward and sneer. The smile the wolf offered went unseen.

He thought to continue, but then thought better of it. Let Terance have his piece.

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