Neverwinter Forest through fen damp and glade deep

He may not have heard the crow, but he heard the swift approach of footfalls against the earth. There were no other warnings that he could have picked up on in that flash of moments than that, and he scarcely had enough time to turn his head before he felt another body collide with his own. It was nothing more than a glance, just enough to knock him off-kilter and into a stagger; it was hardly threatening though he felt the rise of his hackles along his shoulders and spine in bewilderment. The scent of sun-dried berries accosted him as they parted and a growl worked its way out as he righted his course to a halt.

The wolf may have meant well, but he seemed very much the snake in the grass. An unfamiliar snake, at that. Dirge met his gaze ask he spoke and assessed quickly that he had been watched, at least presumably—long enough that the other had gleaned that he had been more with himself than with the present. It soured his mood further, painted the stranger even more as a snake than previously considered by the time the last word had slipped its way out.

”You're an intrusive sot, aren't you,” he sternly offered in response, and in warning.

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