Blackfeather Woods too short, walking the streets, i'm hating my haircut

There's something oddly intimate about the moment, something that makes him edge a little closer to Rowan as they walk, until their fur mingles slightly with each step. The explanation sends another faint shiver through him, one that the leader of the dark woods can likely feel this time, close as he lingers. Can we go there? He asks quietly, ignoring his own nervousness at the suggestion. He suddenly needs to know where this road leads.