The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page.
“Walk. With me?” He obliges, uninterested in breaking contact with this oddball of a intrigue. She is young, but there is something about her that screams ‘going places’ nonetheless. The ambition in her eyes is enough to inspire at least a semi-fondness for her in him. The comments that follow encourage him further, though not out of fear. “Beast. Want your life.” He more finds concern in wasted efforts putting his teeth to task. “They may try to take it, but I should not think it easy. I am rather picky about the one who consumes me. In attention or of flesh.” Perhaps the wordage is more than she can comprehend, but yet again he does not wait for her to catch up, if she had to.
She relays to him at last what especially drives her to invite him away-- nighttime, apparently a beast (perhaps more) plagues the night of these parts. He steps forward with her to travel beside her and finds himself made more alive of senses for having a companion. It was unnatural for a wolf to be alone, he remembers, and perhaps he could concede he had been away from them for quite a while indeed. His gaze does not return to her while they move, interested in surroundings so long as she felt like remaining silent. He never faulted a creature quiet introspection and investigation.
|
