Deepwood Weald the dirty [m]

The murk that clung to the woods reminded him of his father's pack, the haunted woods that he claimed for his little ragtag group of mercenaries - he was dead now, wasn't he? Tzila told him so, but did he believe a wretch like her? Perhaps it was about time for him to go and pay them a little visit, sooner rather than later as he kept putting it off. Why? Lazy perhaps, they were all quite high strung the last time he had swung by, especially the puppies they had gathered there - so was it worth it? Maybe... it could be a little fun. 

"Hey, big guy!"

Pale ears flickered back at the sound and wondered to himself, was he the big guy this person was referring to? Curiously he looked over his shoulder, peering through the smog to find the one who so boldly called out to him. With what? Quirking a brow, he was not about to reject it completely depending on what the task was... and well — What's in it for me?