Duskfire Glacier The voice in my heart

The skinny ghost shook his head, waving his right paw about; it really wasn't anything. He was used to giving his all to others, why else would he be missing a tongue? Sure, stupidity and naivety had played a large part, but it had also been for his pack. Despite the silent inquiry she would rather not receive his gifts anymore, he was determined to keep providing if only to quench his thirst for purpose.

At her question, he raised his shoulders. He hadn't met many of the others, keeping mostly to himself. He was used to the isolation and the cold, even while part of something bigger. He didn't dislike it either; the ghost was known to wander. Perhaps he would even wander from this home again, the instinct he had for adventure greater than his morals.