Stavanger Bay Killing me softly

Chrysanthemum had always had few friends to speak of -even back in Poet Vale. Sure her siblings had always been there, but like most her amicable spells with them were terse at best and far between. Other than that, she could recall a small plethora of forgettable adults, and nothing more. So for all intensive purposes the puppy's offering was a first.

Appreciative of the moment, Chrys battered her tail contentedly while staring almost adoringly at the wolf child. "I think that I would like that very much Tveir," she confessed. Never mind the fact that the juvenile didn't know the first thing about actual friendship. Surely she could figure it out along the way. For now she was just full of herself for righting his initial shyness to the point of garnering such a special offer.

The sweetness of their conversation was partially carried over to her dialog with Thistle Cloud. Although she was beginning to notice that the woman seemed careful to always sound -well delightful. Of course, Nerian was pleasant but at least in her own mind Chrysanthemum sensed a difference. Whereas her herbalist was intrinsically mild, the other seemed to behave in an almost trained manner. Perhaps it had something to do with her rank? Initial impressions were always difficult though, and taking queue from Tveir, the elder puppy didn't hold the perceived mannerism against her.

"Ragnar agreed that I could assist Nerian wherever she needed it until I have chosen an actual skill of my own." Tailing off a bit for thought, she resumed with a resolute tone. "I don't think that I will choose this sort of work, but I have earned a great sense of appreciation while dabbling in it -and of course being treated by Nerian."