Aithne was the core of a great enigma for Kneph. She watched him in relative silence, her emotions flitting plainly across her features, as though she were too confident to bother to conceal them. He siphoned through them with care, intrigued at her quick mind and wondering as to her motives. Around them the day grew thin, the sunlight that broke through the boughs overhead turning watery and weak as a new stillness descended into the marsh. Steam continued to rise from the tepid pools of water though, despite the cool air, and they condensed on the boy's coat. Annoyed by the humidity, he gave his silvery-blue pelt a shake before resuming his steady intent on the female before him. As though his renewed focus had summoned him, the ghosts he loathed reappeared to taunt him afresh, trying their utmost to distract him with jibes tailored to wound. It took every shred of strength he had to shut out their voices and concentrate on what Aithne had to say. She started off with a statement-question, and he gave his first grin of the evening. Phantom. Yes, the name would suit him just fine. After all, Kneph meant the same only in a different tongue. Ironic that, although he could not speak, his very demeanour had given him away so easily. And yet, the female regarded him coolly, as though she did not know what thoughts flitted like bats through his mind. Just as well, or she might have labelled him as a crazy and left him to chatter to his demons.

Kneph, ever wise, shut his eyes for a moment to consider her offer. He was not partial to the marshes. He had only entered into its sticky embrace to see if it would sheild him from the vapours he hated. Instead though, it had only provided them with an extra shroud of mystery, and he longed to lope atop the high moors instead, where the strong North wind had a chance of blowing them asunder. However, once he set his own feelings aside, it was clear that what she spoke was true. She had even gone so far as to approach him on a roundabout route, lest she harm his pride in the offering. It was refreshing, to not looked upon as an outsider, with fear and intrigue burning in the eyes of the beholder. Perhaps the other members of her pack would be as real. As to her warning, Kneph appreciated it, but he was not afraid. What could the living do to him that had the power to rile fear in his heart? At least, what could they do to him that the dead had not already done? He opened those eyes, so beautiful and haunting and white like the face of the full moon, and rested them upon the brow of his companion. She continued to watch him, waiting politely for him to make up his mind. The air to either side of him bristled with angst,
“You know, we will follow wherever you roam!”
“You think the living can chase the dead from you? You will always be alone amongst the flesh. Why don't you join us where things are not as complicated and we could show you many secrets?”

A cold shiver sent a ripple down the male's ruff, as he pictured himself bringing down a ghostly elk. Somehow, the image just did not fill him with the same excitement as it would have if he imagined his tongue bathed in hot blood. Drawing himself up, he stood and proceeded to give a small nod. It was not too enthusiastic, letting her know his stay might only be for a short while but, as she had pointed out, winter was almost upon them and the thought of a warm den beside rushing water (if he could find some) had decided him. He waited patiently for her to rse and lead him to her home.

OOC: Hey, you can reply to the post in your packlands if you want:)