Bazyl was concentrating hard on his language and features. As he slowly started to grow into his own he was trying to adopt much of the poise his father seemed to exude. Considering their differences in upbringing, the difference in nature was apparent and the boy had no idea it was a difference Tithe attempted to encourage. The warmer, friendlier and outgoing nature of the copper plated page gave the boy a much different approach to the world around him. Apparent in the way he moved towards the stranger male with kind curiosity.

Growing plume swayed. The boy smiled with growing confidence. My name is Bazyl, and that is my father, Tithe. He glanced back to indicate his watchful sire. Again uncertain for a moment of how to proceed, he looked between Tithe and Bondurant, almost pleading the knight for help.

Tithe stepped forward at this time and nodded his own greeting to the spotted wolf. A pleasure, Bondurant. I was just taking my son out to explore and stretch our legs.

Hoping he could somewhat redeem himself, Bazyl stepped forward again, wanting to be helpful and prove himself to his predecessor and now this new acquaintance. We could help you, catch some lunch. Bazyl offered, his head tilting to the side in sincerity. He thought about offering the sustenance and shelter of Taviora, but still a stranger he was not sure what he could offer on behalf of his pack. Tithe looked over at the pup, studying him thoughtfully. A single ear flicked back to the adult male, followed by Tithe’s iron eyes. He was curious to see how the other would work with them. As curious as the boy was excited, though unlike Bazyl’s excitement, Tithe’s emotions did not break through his guarded expression.