Lion Head Mesa Trod on my abbot, Father Habit

A streak of auburn approached, and her eyes were startlingly violet in color. The Taggerung was momentarily mesmerized by the sight until the woman appeared to be there to make sure he was not a threat. This was all to be understood, of course, for the bard knew they were preparing for war, and he was only a lone wolf venturing into their hold.

Ah, greetings to you, madam, he greeted with a sweet smile and a trotting approach. The auburn woman had not said anything, not with her mouth, but her expression seemed to speak for her. She would have made a fine guardian if she had not already taken such a profession under her paw. I believe the Ursus wolves are here, yes? To prepare for war. I’ve come to join the rabble, although I may not fight – I’m not much of a fighting man, you see, the Taggerung babbled to her pleasantly.