Deepwood Weald ships on vigor

the woman is small, willowy and draped in a soft pelage the color of dove feathers. her chuff draws his attention; his head swinging in her direction as he focuses his good eye on her. for a moment, he makes no moves, no sound: just the flare of his nostrils to determine her scents. her posture does not hold within it possessiveness or aggression; thus, kjalarr's remains neutral.

hello, he greets, inviting her company.