Larksong Grotto i'm going through changes

Opalia was sharp with her tongue, as always, and Dacio observed in quiet amusement. She made demands of the stranger, requesting his name and seeking to know what sort of experience he carried, but the response that came roused little but disappointment.

He exhaled a soft huff, content at least to hear that he was willing to prove himself capable of learning. Dacio stepped aside once more, grey-green eyes trailing over the crouched ashen figure before them, studying his form with a careful gaze. This one was young, ages with he and his sister perhaps, but rife with inexperience. Still, he could be of use to their cause - if they could trust him.

His plea to rise was met with a low rumble and fleeting flash of fangs to remind him of his place among those who sought to claim the grotto, before he dipped his dark muzzle in silent permission. "Where did you come from?" Dacio asked, reaching out to test the other yearling's pelt with a quick sniff; the last thing they needed was to have a Rusalka spy in their ranks, or someone who might be swayed by Blackhead and her dogs. All he really wanted to know was that this potential recruit was unspoiled by his enemies.