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

tyr is alerted by the sound of approach, taken off guard by the fact that he'd gotten so close to another without realizing. he reacts with an instinctual bristle of hackles and guard hairs at his nape; jeweled gaze studying her as she approaches him with a 'hey there'. her posture is casual — non-threatening and slowly the taunt set of his shoulders loosens. it is a slight and gradual relaxation but there is a stiffness to the own sway of his tail that communicates that he is not fully relaxed.

it's nothing personal. his mood isn't at a high point lately because 'me, myself and i' wasn't really working out all that well for him and she's a stranger. there's always a level of hesitance and uncertainty towards them. hello. he returns back simply, favoring the brevity of speech as he's been taught since he begun learning to speak.