Qeya River Through the endless daydream

Writing his speech is so difficult, my god. Lol

It was an awfully lucky thing that this boy's soul was born to a wolf, so that he might never have to attempt a PowerPoint presentation to a class full of peers. Dægmar might've been amused by a thought like this if he knew anything of humans and their lives- but alas, he did not. And so he could only listen with genuine interest as the kid likely butchered a concept that might've been more eloquently delivered by his mother. Still, Dægmar got the gist, and cracked a half-smile worthy of Elvis, a twinkle in his gaze that said just keep on trying, bucko. Maybe one day he'd get good at describing it- if it was what he liked, after all, considering his pack's setup geared to improve the individual based on their own desires.  

Even when the boy said he was better at answering questions, Dægmar shook his head lightly as if to pretend that the speech was good. It sounds like a very well-zout out idea. Simple, but good. Society is ze best, after all, venever individuals can pursue ze art zey vish, razer zan being forced into a corner. That was what he thought, anyway. Sure, training and guidance, sometimes a push, was good- but people flowered best when their heart led the way, paved the path. In this way Dægmar had found himself: a gentle hearted warrior, fierce in battle and a gentleman with his people. 

I 'adn't introduced meself. Dægmar Maoilrian, forgive me. And ye, laddie?