Silvertip Mountain There were no seasons in the cave

It was rather difficult to explain why the Taggerung had believed the members of Ursus would be very much like their leader, Cluny. The one-eyed devil was a remarkable thing, of course, but there was something decidedly unhinged in the man’s mind. Now, maybe it had been the fluttering wings of childish fears that had caused him to think poorly of the other members. Nevertheless, as he walked alongside the pleasant company Arielle, Tagg couldn’t help but wonder how she ended up following Cluny the Scourge.

Oh, you’ll be the first to know, madam. I will summon you at once so that you too can try the sweet fragrance of maple wood, the Taggerung promised her with a sound bob, a firm nod of his head. He would be sure to follow that promise through, but he had not happened upon many maple woods in some time.

Arielle commented on the importance of scent and emotion. The bard looked to her with a gaping mouth, pleasantly surprised by the fun fact she’d shared. I wasn’t aware of such things. How do they compliment each other, do tell me. The golden wolf would be sure to listen to every word she shared.