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

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.