King Elk Forest heart the keeper

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raedwulf is glad to see the woman calm. a smoothening of hackles and a lift of her head, he looks then upon those green eyes of hers, and tilts his head.

she calls him skjöldur, and he hums a response: blōsta.

the smile of his is bronze, warm like the dawn of summer, and it is wholly for her. stepping closer when she requests his name, the saxon lowers his head and offers her his crown. ic eom raedwulf.

he is eager to know her name, but before she might speak it, another woman appears.

this one is smaller, with rat-brown fur tattered by burn scars. the englishman turns halfway on his paws towards her and offers a dip of his head in greeting, trying to make certain of her mute gesturing.

hāl þǣr.