Ravensblood Forest Can I bring another bitch or nah?

He wanted to be angry, he really did. Could he have been any more awkward? But the way the singer's eyes lit up, the way his tail swayed, it was disarming. As was his sudden shyness. Ashlar, he introduced himself.
Tybault Medeiros, He offered, thinking over what Ashlar had said, about not having the words yet. You don't always need words. Tybault had never liked words, ironically. Maybe he should have, being a singer and all, but he always felt that they failed him. Even in song, what he felt the most was the melody. The vibe of it all. He thought about adding more, but he was all too aware of his own brewing tension. Best to keep it short. He was finding that he didn't actually want to be angry; it was easier, but it wasn't better.