Deepwood Weald in the ruins where i miss aching for a god

Grezig was nearby when the male entered the Weald. She could hear snapping twigs and the rustle of underbrush nearby, and a sniff of the air indicated that it was a wolf making all the noise. “Hey there,” she called as she made her way towards the sound. She’d been spending more time in the Weald than in Neverwinter, not wanting to risk running into that group that had wanted to attack them a week or so ago. After wending her way between trees, she saw the male. He was monochromatic in fur color, but he had eyes that were a bright and strange blue-green. Unusual and rather hypnotizing when the rest of him was so… bland. She wagged her tail in greeting and waited, unsure if he would be friendly or not.