Jade Fern Grove lying face up on the floor / of my vessel

“Yes, this one is called Tadec,” he confirmed with a soft bow of his head. The girl then followed with a swift introduction of herself and afforded him a nickname to call her. The thief was grateful that he would not be expected to use the full name of the golden wolf. He would have out of a sheer need to be polite to their kind – to save his own hide from the jagged marks of the fang. Spur seemed amiable enough that he did not feel as though he was risking his wellbeing. The sprightly creature allowed his thin-lipped expression to spread into a smile. “Larkspur Ost…rega,” he attempted with a catch in his tongue. “Eyes like the summer sky.” The blue pools that peered at him were indeed an entrancing pair. The color brought about him a peculiar sense of nostalgia.
 
The girl – Spur – mentioned that she was somewhat hungry. Tadec nodded his head and pointed his narrow muzzle into the copse with an intent expression. “Let us eat, then,” he agreed with a motion of his head so that she might track with him. He was fond of smaller game and had a skill for capturing voles, but he was certain she would want to eat more. There had been a small batch of turkeys who had wandered near the area during his last excursion; he hoped he could catch their scent again.