Neverwinter Forest the void of a world

“I’ll make use of it, then. I’ve no taste for dying a fool’s death at someone else’s borders.”

For him, courtesy was currency—a tool to be spent sparingly on those with power worth acknowledging. Sólhárr had earned a modicum of that, having saved his life.

He looked like he might leap into those shadows at any moment, vanish to pursue his own ends. But for now, he remained, restrained by the fact he needed to heal. And, that he would not be a man who broke his word.

At the end of the day, he recognized authority but bowed to no one’s will except his own.

He huffs, managing to rise to his paws once more. Parched, his tongue draws across his snout; he huffs, giving his coat as big a shake as he could physically stand as pain etched through his flank. "Care to lead me to water?"