Ankyra Sound time's the thief of memory

the curling of the stranger's lip was something that caused the dark-hooded young man to stiffen where he stood. the tightness of his muscles was a sign that he had understood his own foolishness in the comment, but he had been honest in the delivery. there was no harm that was intended to the sun-touched male; only that illidan had never seen such brutal markings against the frame of another wolf. even his father had not been as badly battered as the wolf who stood before him; that was remarkable to the young wildling.

lowering his skull a few inches, illidan frowned and shook his head slowly. “i, uh, didn't mean that to come off the way it did,” he tried to excuse in a grumbled voice. mentally, he reprimanded himself to the point of burning with embarrassment. still, his curiosity ate against that shame and forced him to return his sights to the stranger's figure. “how'd you get them?” illidan then asked in a tone that was gruff but quiet in its delivery.