The Heartwood Forest of Victims

The dim light inside the forest played with the gray and white contrast of the female wolf's features as though she were flitting in and out of existence. If truth be told, it was hard for Kadezj to discern what was a play of the light and what was the impact of fever on his brain. But she appeared for the most part clear, and he had to trust that the shifts in her body were relaxation, and not a musing of his mind.

He did not change his own position, but his ears twitched as she replied, and already the warrior's heart was confused and intrigued. She did not seem hostile in the slightest, and while not every chance meeting with a stranger turned to violence in Kadezj's past, they certainly were not cordial. He decided it would indeed be best to play along and adapt to this style of interaction - at least while there was fresh meet around.

"Ah, a local. I have been wanting to see one for myself," he confessed, knowing that truth was a valuable tool to any discourse. "I am Kadezj. I roamed far south of here, once upon a time." He extended his had forward slightly but did not lift - sniffing at the air and inhaling the tender aroma of death.