Ravensblood Forest palm to palm is holy palmer's kiss

it is growing quieter in the forest, though whether that is the soft blanket of winter upon them or the drifting apart of his companions he cannot say for sure. it does not bother him, not yet. his conversation with spot lingers at the forefront of his mind - it is true, for a newly forming pack they barely know each other. 

sighing softly, the scholar drifts, keeping his senses keen to find someone of their group - thelxiope, he really hopes, or constantine, but - someone to discuss this little issue with.