Silvertip Mountain O'er the deeps and wild waters of seas

Oh, don't mind me. I simply need something to occupy my hands and writing posts is the best way. Anyone welcome!

The sunlight was welcome on the mountain, at least for the bard. He had felt a strange settling of seasonal sadness. Summer had faded and fall was upon their doorstep, eager to begin a new season.

The Taggerung made his way to the edges of the mountain where he knew the Ursus claim ended. The bard wove his way along the borders to mark them occasionally, doing his part so that he was not accused of being a lazy bum- the very thought!

When a crow cawed overhead, the Taggerung squinted at it and barked back.

The silent knight found Taggurung along the borders, and with a chuff, she approached. 
This one, she hadn't interacted with personally. So, now was the time. 

Vesta weaved through the trees to the Bard, tail waving as a show that she meant him no friction upon her approach. 

You are the storyteller? Her eyes ask, for she had no words in a literal sense.

A pale spirit approached, touched with a streak of auburn that painted her nape. The curious intensity of her eyes was like that of fire, brilliant and burning in both color and emotion. The Taggerung was overjoyed to have found a packmate.

Milady you have been touched by the most beautiful of red along your nape, did you know? the bard inquired to her with a cheery smile and wave of his tail.

Vesta tilted her head with a curious chirp, and if she were human she might've blushed.

However, she could not say her thanks in words, so instead she only smiled and wagged her tail, approaching further to offer a playful, harmless tug to his neck fur.

Then, she backed off to look upon him again, tail still asway

The pale woman was quiet save for the sound of a surprised chirping noise. None of this bothered the Taggerung, he had encountered many who did not speak his common tongue or even share words at all. It did not mean that she was any less of a woman, or that she would disappoint him as a temporary companion. Even the playful tug at his nape was welcome.

I’m called the Taggerung, the bard introduced with a swift bow of his torso toward the ground. I take it you don’t talk much? The gold-clad wolf cast her a crooked grin and a quick wink of his squinted silver eye.

His grin was wide, friendly. 
Something she wasn't quite used to seeing, but would welcome openly.

I take it you don't talk much? He smiled.
Vesta shook her head and raised her paw to her throat as best she could, nudging her jugular as if trying communicate; 

I cannot speak at all.

Oh, I see, it dawned on the bard with a small nod of his head. The pale wolf did not appear to speak at all, perhaps because of something that had happened to her throat. What a curious thing to discover, Tagg thought to himself. He offered an encouraging smile to the wolf with auburn on her neck.

You know, it’s rather serendipitous that we should meet. I rather enjoy talking. If you are something of a listener, perhaps I could tell you a story, the bard suggested. He did not wish to overwhelm the woman, not at all. It was merely nice to have found someone who carried a friendly spirit beneath their flesh.

Vesta smiled back at The Taggerung softly, perking her ears as he brought up the suggestion of telling a story.

A storyteller? She wondered, swaying her tail as she readily sat down to hear the tales this Bard would weave.

feel free to tell the entirety of the story and pp Vesta listening intently and with awe the whole way! <3

It did appear as though the pale woman would listen to a story. This brought a good deal of joy to the Taggerung, and he sparked to life in only a few moments.

The tale that he had offered her was one of his favorites, one that had been told to him when he had been nothing more than a young man in search of destiny – ah, such sweet times. He told her the tale of Blacktooth the Terrible and the hero who vanquished him, Catwe the Swift. It was a rather childish story, but still held a good amount of action and redemption for the heroine involved. When the Taggerung had been a young boy, he had begged his mother to tell the story of Catwe and Blacktooth every night.

When he had finished, he smiled cheerfully to his company and then offered her a rather clumsy bow of his torso. Perhaps I shall tell you another if we get a chance like this again, hmm?

Oh I just saw Vesta was killed! ;__; I don't want to keep you RPing on her if she's met her end so we can just wrap this up with another post from you and then myself to close it out, yes?

Sounds good! <3

Vesta listened intently, in awe, as the Bard told and wove his tales. 
It was like getting lost in a story within her mind...imagination was truly a beautiful thing.
The red-nape came back to the present once Taggerung bowed his torso. 

Smiling, the bearknight nodded once to his offer and began to trot easily away, pausing to see if he might patrol with her.

Their time shared had been brilliant, enjoyable beyond measure. The Taggerung had not realized just how much he enjoyed having a companion who allowed him to do all the talking. He hadn’t needed to pause his story – not once – for her to weigh in with opinions on how it might end. In fact, the woman with the red nape was positively delightful company. She did not need words, he had found.

The bard happily followed her, accompanying the woman on her patrol and then bidding her a lovely day. He hoped he would see her again, that they might share another moment together in which he could test a new tale, try his tongue at poetry. The Taggerung was delighted at having made a new friend.