Hushed Willows the answer's somewhere deep in it, i'm sorry that you're feeling it

astara slowed on approach, muzzle extended to greet this male in the manner of the old ways. he carried various samplings of scent on his coat -- most surprisingly, the scent of the little dove astara had met and toyed with some weeks back. a brief flare of recognition crossed her gaze, yet of course, she did not speak.

pygmalion's demeanor appeared somewhat guarded to astara. she registered the light wave of his tail with a scant pass of her own, but then pulled away. this exchange of information in the form of scents had been just as educating as speaking might be, for astara detected the scents of many others as well. his question was met with a flicker of her indigo gaze, and then one slow turn of her head. no. she lived on the road, and made the wilderness her home.