The Sentinels a winged victory for the sullen

his ears pull forward as ford reveals his history with the forest, unable to discern the source of his own investment but hardly caring to linger on it. he's fascinated with the idea of spirits roaming the woodland by the sea; the image painted in his mind is one of beauty and magic and life, a stark contrast from the desolate scene they've been placed in now. he quickly understands that this forest is to be the basis for his new moniker, and the realization brings with it a strange, satisfying mixture of joy and melancholy. sentinel, the stark-eyed man says, and it feels... right. he likes it. his smile grows, tail wagging faster, and he stretches into a slow, deep bow to show his pleasure.