Deepwood Weald a shadowy hand turns the page

To make a name for herself; his features twitched ever so slightly to hear this, almost curling into a smile as pondering was left in its wake. More than likely a tale others had, though he would have appended such a thing to dispersals of his gender than hers. It always seemed more likely that men would seem more ambitious than women, though truth be told most of the women he found himself in the company of on a regular basis were every bit as openly ambitious as they could be. Some were, of course, more subtle.

“Yes, the coast does hold the beach and the ocean,” he confirmed—had she never seen it? All signs point to yes. “It’s truly quite a bewildering thing to see for yourself. Beautiful, but notably dangerous. The ocean is a thing in which we cannot see its truth depth like a clear lake or stream. It’s stronger than it looks, too.” He had seen the way it would sweep the unaware off their feet, and he too had learned a thing or two the hard way about it’s ebb and flow.

“As for permanency, should you ever decide to travel south to make your name known I also may know a place or two,” he went on, turning his head to gesture. “Outside this forest you’ll see the mountains—my pack resides along the tallest of them, Moonspear.” Perhaps brazen of him to offer, but he did not pass up opportunities as they came such as that. But he imagined she would want to see where her feet would take her too, if she was anything like he was. After all, Hydra had taken her time in recruiting him once upon a time.