Deepwood Weald or a person i could call home.

Kynareth’s excitement for her shows as well as his tail wags steadily behind him, sweeping along his hips and flinging snow off his pelt. His eyes are wider and hold a familiar playfulness, yet they’re softer than they usually are.

Donav. Is all he hears come come happily from her lips. He almost feels a twinge of guilt at the name she bestowed upon him when he went by his alias. 

Still it doesn’t stop him from becoming any more enthusiastic as she is. He even chuckles smoothly at the trembling excitement shooting through the smaller female. Allowing himself to wrap his head around her to finish the hug, the presence of Simmik hot beside him.

“I would almost want to ask the same of you, dear.” He hums back. Then turns to look at Simmik. “She’s an old friend of mine. Used to be a part of the Saints.” Then he looks back down to the smaller wolf-dog. “This is Simmik.” He introduces the females to one another even though he’s sure they’re both capable of doing it themselves.