the singing of the earth

Should be faster from now on!

He did his best to shrink his hulking form, to honor her status in this place and give her deference. She came upon him like a ghost, swift and as ephemeral as the wind. Though here amongst the waifs of southern lands she might still be considered large, the white beast thought her lithe and dainty. She was beautiful, and it made it easy for the male to bow at her paws.

His flame colored eyes ventured a look at her face, once he was certain that he proved himself no threat to her lands, though they dared not meet the brilliant turquoise. "I am Knaiakhotana Frostmane," he rumbled deeply in greeting, "but many call me Khotan. I have ventured from the North, seeking a land that sings to my blood. I feel it near your forest; I would be honored to serve you both." It was the most he had spoken in months, and his throat felt raw. But he knew that he would continue to speak until it bled, were she to demand it from him.