The Heartwood heilig

Dreven had learned early on, to never act serious. If you could make them laugh, they did not bite or claw or hurt. And he enjoyed teasing, testing. Playing.

She did not run away. Instead she stood. Still. Waiting. Silent. But what was she waiting for? Him? To finish the conversation. She was very near the territory. He could act violently, but he was in a giving mood.

There was an accent to her words, perked his ears forward. He wondered at it. Where it was from. Would she rage at him in another language, because well that was certainly an attractive thought, if he was honest.

Minne. he tried out her name. I was partial to Patchwork, but very well. Dreven.

He was quicker to give his name than in times past, but he was a leader of sorts now. So his name would find it's way to all.