Blackfeather Woods Her hands were all twisted, she was pointing at me

My lady, the woman speaks, My lord, using antiquated terms that did not suit the wolves of the wood; it irked him more that the stranger spoke to the darkness before they spoke to him; it was only moment later that Titmouse became aware of a second shape — the plump silhouette of Moonshadow, one of Maegi's allies - and his scowl deepened.

The stranger continued to speak, and the ghost continued to leer, pacing when his body began to droop in one direction or another, eager to hit the dirt and let sleep come to overwhelm him; but he listened. Mou latched on to the woman's voice as it drawled qualifications and skills, none of which bringing any change to the ghost's dull, sleepy expression.

None of it mattered. They were not a pack of warriors, nor did they have any intention of bringing conflict to the valley. Maegi's own decree was to keep a low profile — something he was struggling with, and the very thought of his beloved made him tense and drag in a deep breath to steady his nerves. As for healers - the man glances at Moonshadow and her increased density. Before long she'd be denning herself somewhere in the woods and all the pack could offer her was the skill of the Nona.

Moons-sah-da, he murmured to the pregnant woman, unable to stop the decimation of his voice as he tried to pronounce her name. This is fren? Can convirm? Trust? It would all depend on what the woman had to say; regardless of how skilled this stranger may be, Mou could think of nowhere else to station her in the coming days, if she should be permitted to stay. Moonshadow would need someone to tend to her more regularly - especially if the two ghosts had been successful in their own tryst, for the nona would eventually be in need as well.