Stone Circle Bobcaygeon

Her voice was soft, sweet. Nearly hard to hear given the distance between and the rustling of the forest around them. Greyback nodded to her, catching her thanks and moved farther up the bank, turning away. Until, that is, that he heart the splash, the clash of clenched teeth, and the pained hiss the little bird let out.

Instantly turning, the beast looked back at her with a raised brow, his paw poised out to take a step towards her until she slowly made her way up to him—gingerly. He stared at her in suffocating silence, breath slow as he took in her small frame and pained movement. What had happened to her? Was she sick? Valette had not informed him of such....

He walked close to her knowing to touch was forbidden, but perhaps it was him trying his best to comfort her; to offer any sort of help. But then a word, hushed and silent nearly like before. Willow. Greyback blinked at that, caught in the moment of why this stranger was speaking of his daughter till he realized that perhaps she meant the plant.

The Easthollian wasn't familiar with medicinals and magics, the trickery and sorcery of their ways. He often saw such tasks carried out by women in his childhood. But no matter, he turned around and scouted along the bank, looking up at the trees. "Bark or moss?"