As a child, Grimoire had exasperatedly attempted to master the charismatic arts. Words were easy to think and difficult to convey. Her mother was something of a marvel at putting meaning into phrases. Her lessons of riddles were taxing, but eventually Grimoire learned nonsense could be given meaning by body language; words were but sound patterns. Grimoire’s father was a different sort of character. When he spoke, it was with dreadful, apocalyptic exactness from four languages - he used whatever suited the situation best. Grimoire came to know the world through a broad spectrum of ideas presented by the meanings of many languages. Struggle as she did, the practice served her societal image. She fancied that she appeared cleverer than she actually was.

Perhaps the correct conclusion of her apparent genius in interaction was her ability to observe. Grimoire was highly sensitive to quarks, or rather, to auras. Every detail added to an individual’s presentation from the environment they chose to interact with to every twitch of their innards. In the grand scale of comparison, her female companion had a peculiarity about her. It wasn’t in her voice, which was simple, but no doubt sharp. It wasn’t in the lift of her lips, which created her reserved but undoubtedly real persona. It was… hmm… Oh. It was not the the addition of movement or an expected trait, but the lack of one. The wolf sported a stiff left ear. The immobility was invisible to an untrained eye, but due to her hunter’s tendency to study, potential weakness didn’t escape her notice.

Grimoire let her eyes settle on the auditory feature, wondering was it’s affliction was. Deafness could cause lack of muscular functionality, but so could a variety of other ailments. Disease or poison could have damaged the nerves, an external injury could have caused damage to the movement of the ear. Both of those options, however, Grimoire would have expected to leave behind more defects, such as scarring or a general stiffness to the entire wolf.

She shifted her eyes from the ear back into the face of the wolf sitting above her, and received the Latin agreement. Warmth hugged Grimoire’s heart. Latin from a familiar face was just the medicine her lonely heart needed. Her tail waved behind her, and her eyes twinkled in nearly genuine delight for the company of her Demon companion. Her fangs glinted when an eager smile light her face. She chirped her exuberance,

”Praeclara!”

Grimoire half turned, her posture inviting and she said before she strode off into the dense woods,

”Follow me, then! Our hunt will be found in the wilderness.”