Moonspear Will-o-the-Wolf

She was a delightful thing. He could steal her mirth to bolster the lack of his own, wear it as armor if not hold as shield. And he did, for even beneath her astute study of him she seemed capable of finding those little notches in his usual stoicism. Perhaps had they been more strangers out in the wilds rather than acquaintances he would have taken her up on her offered ear, but as it were he sought purchase in keeping up appearances for his own sake.

A good humored note left him, nevertheless, and he thinly offered her a smile.

"Alas the mistress of sleep does not elude me," he explained as she reclined, "I merely offered to take up the nightly patrol for the other mistress for a change." His smile broadened knavishly, how he hoped to be charming by placing some blame on Hydra than the churn of his own mind. Of their joint leadership, it was generally her who tended to the borders more often than he.

He forged ahead in their conversation.

"You were away for some time, if I recall. Did the wilderness treat you right?"