Lost Creek Hollow burning away at the heartwood

Did he intimidate her? The uncertainty that came crawling across her wolfish features baffled him for a moment, though it seemed more affirmed by the way she sputtered a response to him. He found this unusual, but everything about everything new so far had been unusual, to say the least. Still, it was this genuine show that made him rescind the concept of being wary if only a minute amount; clearly she took was growing used to wearing another coat, so to speak.

”I am new also,” he offered, as though his words could some how soothe her. ”You may call me Tarot.” He knew only bits and pieces of how this pack had come to be and most of those he had gleaned from Terance. And he had thought his arrival to come at a keen time as well, that it would make his own integration swift, but that had been wishful thinking indeed. Here he was, out in the wilds of his own home, trying to perform some discreet ritual without prying eyes.

It had failed, more than likely.

”Are you settling well, then?” He plucked small questions from the ether, a final tap to the earth following as he opted to venture away from what he quartered off as his own to better examine her. Perhaps it would keep her talking and he could sequester her further away, sweep the whole matter underneath some rug. His conversational skills were far from up to snuff; the practice would perhaps do him some good.