Barrow Fields seaside, whenever you stroll along with me

he regarded the slate man’s submissive gesture with a simple tilt of his ear and continued watching the dumbfounded lot of Morningside from the pall of forest-cast shadow. 

ensuing the heated departure of their local witch and the man he was yet unacqainted with, Nyx was brisk to rid herself of obscurity the boscage provided, entreating his audience with a soft yip. mustering a huff of inconvenience he gathered his feet beneath him and trailed out on her lead. presumably he had civic obligations to fulfill in Wylla’s vacancy, but he never had blossomed as Grimsnismal’s second-in-command, and fulfilled them oh-so-begrudgingly. 

thus, ”what’s poppin’ fresh?” were the words that represented their estate as the palewashed male paraded out into the expanse to collect what extraordinary tidings they brought.