Bearclaw Valley Come out, come out...

When she inches the rabbit closer, after maybe only a moment of caution more does the dark wolf step forth and lick at the bloodied kill. A slight wave of her tail, lowered at her hocks, was offered in response, eagerly watching as he accepted the prize. He begins by listing the more obvious benefits of having her within their ranks and her smile is unwavering as she watches him and listens. Head lifting, he stares down at her again. Being looked down upon was something she had long since gotten used to, being small and all. Well, I could do a little bit of anything, I suppose. Though she looked quite youthful, being well-off into 'middle-aged' or even more so, the little crone had learned quite a bit, especially given her typical lifestyle as a gypsy woman. Hunt, track, guard, heal... Jack of all trades yet master of none. She would admit with a shrug and then, And I do enjoy sing and dance and well, I absolutely love children. Their tiny features, plump bellies, broken speech, innocent and curious nature and of course, their taste!