Deepwood Weald Little weasels with tails of white

Rodyn smiled sadly. Callyope was not one to lash out, or fight back. She was a silent wolf. Preferring to turn her hurt inward. It saddened the russet boy who hoped to call her sister in law some day. And he hoped she'd learn to share more of herself with others eventually.

Callyope would treat all with friendliness. She is a gentle soul, preferring to show a happy face to the world. She sings wonderfully too. Perhaps you and she can sing sometime. If you like it and you see her again.


Rodyn cracked a smile, a low chuckle in his throat. Just because he didn't rib others back or joke in such a manner, didn't mean that he didn't find it as funny as the next wolf. It sounded as if this Dreven and Atka were an interesting pair. Good for them, for finding something in this world, if it was what they wanted.

Her next open ended question drew him pause and he had to think about it. What season. He liked Spring well enough, but Autumn was a favorite for the nostalgia it invoked.

I prefer Autumn. But that is more nostalgia than anything. Where we grew up our father called us his Autumn wolves for our coloring. And when I think of Fall I think of them.

You're fine. Good luck on your applications! <3