King Elk Forest ≼ völuspá

he watches the motion — a touch of her paw to her throat — and understanding dawns upon nyktos' expression. she cannot speak. that's ok, nyktos replies, soothing. unsure how to make his person: tall and scarred and missing an eye ... less. he knows nothing about her but there is something about her aura that stirs something protective in the druid.

she could have been a viper laying in wait for all he really knew, but nyktos had been trained to listen to intuition, right or wrong... and he doubted she was a pretending.

i am nyktos — he offers before another joins their small gathering.

he comes like a king ascending his throne and nyktos shifts, angling himself slightly beside the small woman.

the man's common is thick, accented with words that nyktos does not know but can surmise enough of by the words that both proceeded and followed.

a claim. a something that sounded like allfather — which reminds him of dreadfather and he feels something steel in his chest for even here sithis watches through his missing eye — and a simple bid: stay.

nyktos casts a glimpse to matsi, brief but assessing her reaction to this all.

what sort of home do you plan to build here? nyktos asks, gleaming for some more information before he answers either way.