Shadewood the wood's labyrinth

The distance between them both was one that suited him fine - though his gaze lingered on the ground, as though he were assessing whether the other was still a danger to him. He didn't speak anything of it though, instead studying the other's face as it came into better view.

Glad to meet someone with reason, Cormorant's eyes were back on the other's, formal, polite. He elaborated no further, instead attention turned to the question lingering in the air after. He knew it wiser to lie, say he had someone just beyond the fog, awaiting and traveling alongside him, but he had never been one for it.

As it's best described, He answered, an ear flicking as he huffed a cold breath. His head listed to the side as a shoulder shifted, a fakely-unbothered gesture. I rarely keep company.

Cormorant's words held no animosity, just a stewed brevity. It wasn't a fact he rejected, but one he had come to terms with, and one only perpetuated by himself and his own choices. A veneer of sympathy slipping over his expression as he prompted, Am I wrong to assume you're much the same?