Dragoncrest Cliffs tired of my turmoil.

Aure regarded the older newcomer with a keen, considering look. If her guess was somewhat right, then these weren’t the common loner such as herself. 

Her assumption was confirmed as the younger male spoke of a ‘Drageda.’ She fought the urge to deflect the praise of her conflict with the coyote; and at the mention of loner life and skills, the she-wolf decided to gaze to the foreboding horizon. If anything, it was a futile attempt to conceal her uncertainty, or even meekness, in the matter.

”Skills?” Aure gnawed on the inside of her cheek, worrying the tenderness inside as she thought. “If being adaptable is one of them, I might as well be especially versed in that area.”

She fell quiet for a moment, and kept her eyes carefully averted. There was a slightness to her—as if she was almost a smidge doubtful in her own capabilities. Nonetheless, she resumed with a flick of thin ears: “I must admit that I am not ze most auspicious hunter or tracker. I am, of course, a tolerable fighter at best. My knowledge of healing has become next to none.”

”I cherish learning, however. I covet adapting. It’s kept me from being utterly useless, I’d like to think.” Aure finally brought her flickering gaze back to both males, sidelong and almost shy. “I do not know ze ways of the world of warriors, you see. And yet, I long to linger. If Drageda decides to accommodate me, I would like to return my gratitude in ze form of some sort of duty.”