Neverwinter Forest said he was a sailing man

Luhtar watched Catamaran retreat, his yellow eyes narrowing slightly as the other wolf’s dark form slipped into the shadows. The bounty hunter’s parting words hung in the air, sharp and pointed, but Luhtar didn’t move to stop him. His posture remained steady, though there was a faint stiffness in the line of his shoulders, a lingering tension that wouldn’t quite fade.

Not even you asked my name. The words grated, and Luhtar let out a low huff, his breath curling faintly in the cool air.

His gaze lingered on the spot where Catamaran had disappeared, his ears twitching as the forest settled back into its quiet. He should’ve said something, maybe, but what? Words weren’t his strength, and whatever connection they might’ve forged seemed as fragile as frost beneath the morning sun. Still, a part of him felt a faint pull of regret—not enough to call out, but enough to leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

For now, though, there was nothing more to say.