Neverwinter Forest said he was a sailing man

Luhtar moved through the territory with deliberate steps, the soft crunch of leaf matter beneath his paws muffled by the sound of his own loud breath. There was a fog that hung low, curling around the underbrush as he navigated the winding trails.

But the stillness broke. A voice—unfamiliar and sharp—carried faintly on the breeze, pulling his ears upright. He stopped, head tilting as he strained to catch the direction of the sound. Moments later, another voice followed, older but less unfamiliar, the tone enough to prick his curiosity.

His brow furrowed, tail flicking once as he adjusted his path, moving toward the disturbance with careful, measured steps.

He stepped through the brush soon enough, eyes moving from one to the other. One smelled of his Hárkonungr, that alone enough to lower his guard.

"Who this?"