Hushed Willows all alone

Lorcan’s amber eyes tracked her movements, his expression unreadable as Pala brushed past him. Her question, though seemingly casual, pulled a low hum of thought from the back of his throat.

Life in the Ridge, he began, his voice carrying a wry edge, is rather… boring. He shifted his weight, one paw moving slightly to better balance his frame, the faintest flicker of a smirk gracing his features. Not much changes up there. Same trees. Same rock. Same routine. He shrugged lightly, as though the monotony didn’t bother him—but perhaps it did, somewhere beneath the surface.

His gaze followed her as she moved, her nose to the ground now, evidently more interested in the hunt than the conversation. And the Vale? he asked, his words deliberate. Is it as lively as I hear, or do you just talk big to make up for it?

There was a glint of something teasing in his tone, though not quite enough to cross into mockery. He was testing her, in the way he tested most. After all, boring or not, life in the Ridge required one to keep sharp—even in the company of intriguing strangers.