Sleepy Fox Hollow i want to play a game.

jigsaw expects more questions, perhaps for mahler to detail his rank amongst the diaspora populace. he swallows the lump of nerves that has gathered in his throat as the man resumes his unheard of speech, and the words themselves come to the wolfdog as a shock. he is merely invited to stay as a guest (his interpretation for the word geist, given mahlers accent) and to test his devotion tomorrow in the form of scouting for danger. He is reminded of the woman who had told him of this place: Wylla, on a scout of some kind to service the pack.

The demand seems reasonable if not easy, prompting Jigsaw to nod his head in agreement. i will gladly do that for you. Thank you... I just.... Thank you. I will begin this task as soon as i have rested for the night.

With that Jigsaw bows his head and noses the underside of the gargoyles maw, an ultimate sign of appreciation and gratitude. If he can do as he is asked - and he will - there will be no more solitude, more protection, and less of the hunger that constantly gnaws at his gut.