Broken Antler Fen winter will feed on the warmth of your things

A dark ear flicked backward at the sound of another's approach, and he turned his proud head to point his speckled muzzle in Praimfaya's direction. He greeted her silently, fondness in the crease at edges of each eye that might suggest something of a smile, though it was quick to fade as his attention returned to their two visitors.

"This is Praimfaya," he announced, tone warm with the pride he held for her dedication to succeed at her tender age, "and I am Dacio. I don't believe I caught your names before...?"

Formalities aside, they seemed eager to get down to business. The young Klikalida shifted his weight a little, straightening his postore as his dark lobes swivelled forward at what the raven wolfess' shared. She asked if Roangeda's future commander's paths had crossed with them - a curious thing indeed, considering how she'd warned him not to pursue them further.

With a twitch of a whisker, Dacio maintained his silence and allowed his charge the opportunity to speak up. His job was not to lead for her, after all, but to guide.