Ankyra Sound Whisper

It was not Morgra who greeted him but a woman in dark furs, accented with silver and snow; a lovely thing, though not to Ptolemy's taste. He watched her drift toward him as if in a haze, his own steps halting. A slow smile crept over his features.

Lost? The Speaker inquired playfully, tail waving a few times to convey a friendly intent. No reason to terrorize the poor woman; not yet. The scents of others lingered upon her. Best to get acquainted with the neighbors, he thought, before they began their true purpose.