Silvertip Mountain There were no seasons in the cave

A dark figure had approached him while he had not been paying attention. The Taggerung spun slightly to draw the unfamiliar wolf into his gaze. He offered her a cheery smile and a wave of his golden tail, a friendly display.

For several long seconds, he had not realized she had been asking him who he had spoken to. The Taggerung balked for only a moment before he laughed and shook his head. Only myself, dear lady, only myself. I find at times, I am the best company I’ve got.

The bard offered another chuckle, thinking himself rather amusing.