Ravensblood Forest Bloody Tails of Hunting Union

though ash paw's question of them leaving does not exactly come across as judging to ingram, they rankle at it all the same; fur at their nape bristling slightly. i have no tethers of loyalty, ingram tells her simply; shoulders rising and falling in a lofty roll. no attachments.

for a very brief moment they consider her question. no, is offered both firmly and without explanation, before, slowly, words pry from betwixt their lips. it is not sustainable enough for myself...— a brief pause. or those that might feel inclined to follow me.

if there was time to incur their prophecy of usurping — though there was little left to usurp — now was the time.

there was a moment as she begun her next sentence that ingram's breath catches in their throat. their nightwife! is their first assumption. that brief spark of hope is extinguished and then lit anew by the name she speaks.

ears slick back against their skull; scarred lips parting. my son, ingram offers in a soft rumble that was very nearly a croon. even if the soul of pelageus has taken the body as host: it was not surprising. for that very thing had happened to them and their nightwife. the daedra were taking whatever hosts they so desired in these wilds and it pleases the dreadfather greatly.

where? ingram demands a bit more forcibly than they mean to.