Word Count → 339 :: OOC: I'm so sorry that i'm late with this, but I hope you enjoy

Shawchert wasn’t to busy to see what things lie around him, yes he may have been daydreaming about how Orin would react to the fine meal and the question he had for her, so when he saw white against the dead brown of the forest zip behind a tree Shawchert stopped in mid track, perhaps if she had slowly moved away he may not have noticed so well, but he didn’t even have to see her for her scent. Shawchert stopped in his tracks, having this situation before, it was back before he had been in souls’ though he had many people fear his height they weren’t afraid after a talk, but those that ran away, well, they were not going to talk, so taking his time and sitting down, he pulled the flute from around his neck. He rarely played these days but he was no where out of practice as he put the wooden instrument to his lips and started playing.

The notes were soft, low, and serene. They made him feel happy on the inside, and he had first heard notes much like thse from his mother, but on a different instrument. He thought the flute was much more powerful in that sense and he played slow and long, even if she left, it wasn’t like he was going to attack her, after all he was sitting down with his hand full. His legs crossed over one another so it wasn’t likely he would have an easy time getting up. He didn’t like anyone assuming him to be thea beast of the forest, not unless they meant others harm, then he really was one. On the outside though he was a gentle kind man, albeit clueless most of the time. He continued to play, his eyes half closed but they were scanning the area concealed by his eyelids. His ears perked forward as a sign of friendship. He hoped the scared white wolf would come out and know that he was nothing to fear.

Word Count → 362 :: Out of Character text

As suspected the woman was curious, though she seemed extremely cautious, far more cautious than the others he had met, so it surprised him when she climbed the tree, but he took his time to finish the song, the put his flute in his lap. His ears twitched towards her then looked up as she spoke. He got this question sometimes and he was glad to explain.

“This is a flute. It plays music. Its’ quite handy when you want to tell your feelings like if your happy it coudl sound like this”

He played a happy jig for her, it was quick and simple then spoke again.

“Or sad,”

This time he played a more mellow tune, though he finished nearly as fast as the jig.

“you’ve nothing to fear from me. I may look like a big ugly bear, but I’m harmless. I’m the protector of Cercatori d’ Arte. This here is Izzy, she’s the ferret I’ve been caring for.”

He said, and put his hand on the young ferret that had just entered the scene from some unknown area and bounded into Shawchert’s lap. The ferret was looking up at Gemma, her beady eyes staring right at the white woman but she said nothing to her.

“My name is Shawchert Menue.”

The large man said calmly and politely but he didn’t move from his spot, though he was looking up at the woman. Something he didn’t do normally. She seemed a bit over skittish and he wondered why. Maybe he could help her in a way, after all he was the protector of a pack. He might give her a few pointers, then maybe the poor woman wouldn’t be so scared all the time. Then he wondered why she would be as scared as she was now. Had it to do something with her past, someone had hurt her? Such a pretty thing couldn’t have been hurt, then again Shaw knew that if puppies could be killed.... He struck his son’s murder from his mind and waited to hear the woman’s answer.