Bearclaw Valley at your back door yelling 'cause I wanna come in

He looked upon it and tried to picture himself as a sentry upon it. Hardly the image of strength, but perhaps he'd make a haunting gargoyle to ward off any who meant ill.

It was good she informed him of those who might be welcomed though. He doubted he was wanted to scare off everyone.

Akavir, Arric, Arlette.

His features might have twisted into perplexed humor had she not beat him to the punchline. Still he wondered the odds of it all. Was this whole place littered with those who were branded by some variation of an A title? What did that mean?

None. He had a thin lipped kind of smile. One of student who was beginning to understand his place. I— He hesitated for a moment, uncertain if he wanted to speak it. Fearful of being mistaken for kind again. Why was he so scared of such a nice thing?

I appreciate this.

Maybe the Bearclaw would find him too soft, but he figured it was better to say it instead of assuming it would be understood.