Meadowlark Prairie the midnight breeze plays games with us all

The other engaged in conversation with him, speaking first with a greeting and then a question. Her tone was the icy sort, reminding him, almost, of home—the home he’d departed from years ago, the one covered in blankets of snow and ice. This he refrained from commenting on, however, maintaining a steady focus on her body language alone instead. It was better that way, of course; a voice can lie, whereas a body cannot.

“I do,” he said in return. “I lead those within it.” That this might be an enemy, one looking to rid the region of the woods once and for all, certainly crossed his mind—Kove, however, did not think it to matter much. Whether he was to be attacked there or not, he was still confident in his ability to hold his own; the close proximity to the woods made him all the more confident, too, knowing well that there were those remaining that would not allow him to be destroyed. “Does the forest interest you?” he asked then, curious. Why else would she ask of his origins, if not due to a personal interest?