Honeyed Pasture But here you come alone and crying, now you want to be my friend

Raleska’s gaze slid back to the tree line, which was shadowed a deep emerald by the grizzled mist. Learning it was claimed immediately ended her interest in it; she traced the dark shadow of the bosk south, wondering then if that part of the forest was also claimed. 

Oh. Raleska answered simply, giving a twitch of her tail in slight annoyance that she’d have to navigate elsewhere. There were many things Raleska was, but she wasn’t a trespasser — learning Neverwinter was occupied effectively quashed all interest in making that her destination. 

She didn’t know what to make of Mal’s quip — was it surprising? Unsurprising? She didn’t know the male from Adam other than that one time, and her  experience with wolves left her largely unimpressed with their longevity or consistency. She chose to ignore it — as well as the dig about who had started it. I guess I’ll go that way then. Raleska motioned, hoping that Mal would save her a trip if that was also claimed. I was just looking to see how far the rain goes. She didn’t owe him much of an explanation (and she expected he’d be full of savage glee to learn of it) but that didn’t stop Raleska from expanding: We got flooded out of our place by the Moors. It hadn’t been home to Raleska (neither had the Plateau) but she supposed anywhere was home where you could lay your head safely.