King Elk Forest The wind

The fire in those moonlit eyes fades, only some, but is replaced with a softer emotion that he can’t quite place. Then, all he gets is a ‘humph’ in response to his first statement. He says nothing, patiently wait for the other to answer the brindle brutes own questions. He wants to know his name, where he came from, what he’s doing here. He’s an interesting fellow despite what the other may assume Kyn thinks. 

But finally, he gets an answer. It’s timid, but an answer nonetheless. It’s perfectly fine with him and Kyn smiles brightly at the others name when it graces his auds. And he’s from a place called Starsea? Wow, why does that sound so mystical? It intrigues him and evidence of this would be shamelessly shown as he tilts his head and a look of clear curiosity settles in his expression. 

“Wow.” He says dumbly, but in his tone lives genuine amazement. “That sounds pretty cool. The place you’re  from, I mean. And what an interesting name. I think it suits you.” He offers with a sly smirk.

“Well, it would be rude of me not to share my own. I’m Kynareth Deagon from a place known as The Abby.” The Saint offers easily, smoothly. “It’s an honor to officially make your acquaintance.” He purrs with a curt dip of his massive head. 

“So, Crowfeather, what brings you here?” He wonders then.