It was both endearing and concerning how trusting the lass was. He was a complete stranger and she had no qualms with flopping on the ground beside him and rolling onto her back. Dirk was going to have to figure out who was responsible for this chit and give them a reeducation on how womenfolk--particularly those with unhinged minds--were to be cared for. As if yer the expert Dirk. Ye couldnae even take care of yer own woman. He grunted at the thought as it crossed his mind and turned his attention to the wee shadow as she wriggled about in the grass. Once more the tension eased from his expression and he shifted slightly so that both his hind legs were to the same side and he rested on his right hip, exposing some of his near-black belly.

Turning his attention back to the gel before him a small, lopsided smile tugged at his lips. It was perhaps the first near smile that had dared to emerge in a very long time. All because of a silly mad lass with far more trust than sense. He didn't even know her name but he supposed it didn't matter. He needed a break from exploring and apparently the gel just needed to talk. Dirk was more than capable of keeping an eye on things and listening while she played in the grass.

Not for the first time, Dirk wondered what his pups would have been like had they survived. Strong and honorable like himself or sweet and gentle like Muirean. Truthfully he'd been hoping for a son who was big and strong like him. In the end, that son had withered away into nothing and taken his mother with him in a sense. A low grumble rumbled in his chest as he chased the thoughts away. Guilt still lingered that he felt the loss of his children more acutely than the loss of his mate.

When his wee shadow began to speak again, he was grateful for the distraction and tucked his chin in, neck arching so he could peer down at her. Her head was twisted at an odd angle as she lay on her back, wriggling about. Despite his attentiveness, his ears twitched an pivoted from time to time, fully aware of the sounds around them. Though as she spoke of imprints--something he'd only heard spoken of as it was a very rare thing indeed where he came from--his attention became more and more focused on the lass.

She'd had an imprint and he'd been killed? The more she rambled on, the more Dirk felt his moral outrage build. The loss of her imprint had obviously left the wee lass in this state. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly lest his anger show through and be misunderstood, Dirk lowered his head, intending to gently nudge the lass's little red cheek only to jerk his head back when she suddenly flipped back over onto her belly, clearly overwrought with her memories. Hesitating a moment, Dirk lowered his head again only to freeze as the lass began to speak again.

"Nay lass, my soul is still my own." Both her words and her condition gave him serious cause for concern. Would he one day find himself so utterly bound to a lass that the mere thought of losing her would leave him raving to the moon? This time, when she turned her head and pressed her face close to his, Dirk didn't pull back, merely blinked as she peered into his eyes.

"You see too much, wee shadow." Dirk mused softly as the lass leaned into him again and began to paw at the grass again. She saw far too much for someone so fractured. Then again, perhaps she was able to see the pain in others through the mist of her own; some sort of invisible beacon that called her to loneliness and pain? With a sigh, Dirk nosed the tip of her right ear lightly, not really sure what other comfort to give and taking an unexpected amount of comfort from just having another wolf near; even if she was mad as a bat. "Tell me wee shadow, what are you called?"