Emberwood seeking empty whispers

The snark was surprisingly comforting, and he felt some of the tension in his shoulders easing off. A smirk even threatened at the edges of his mouth. It reminded him of home, far from this northern land. ”Fuckin’ Evien...” he mused, humor laced through his tone.

The name Easthollow rang a faint bell, but what was this males pack? Was it another one he might recognize, or a new one representing how the tides of time wear away the old and create anew?

”‘Pretty bad’ seems like a kind way t’put it... but sure...” His head began to swim again, a bitter taste on his tongue as each of his words sapped away such precious moisture. ”Mmm, was sick... now just feel like hell...” But he’d barely managed his words before that blood-heavy scent from before grew stronger, and a silver female emerged laden with more snark. It was turning into quite the assembly.

”Heh, fuck if I know.” He’d already misjudged the passage of time, he couldn’t trust his assumptions of when he’d eaten last. ”Far too fuckin’ long ago.” Tongue slipped out over his maw, his lips smacking to try and coax more saliva as his words continued to drain him.

Eyes glanced over to this new female, trying to focus and size her up effectively, though his eyelids seemed heavy and surely made him look like a drunkard.