The Sentinels From the Abyss it calls me

“Ruminating” wasn’t a word he knew, though as Gunnar elaborated, Caracal supposed he understood the gist of it. The old man rambled a bit, not that the yearling minded. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile as he offered words of wisdom about travleing.

I’m kinda the same way, he admitted. I travel a lot, though I’ve tried to settle a bit. And he’d done a great job for a short spell, though here he was again, far from home. It isn’t really taking but I’m trying, he said thoughtfully, tail twitching.

But he didn’t necessarily want to dwell on that right now. So, you said you were born here? Like here, in this forest? Do you know what happened to it? Caracal wondered, eyes casting around to take in the remnants of a fire many years past.