I’m so sorry for the wait! OnO Struggling with my muse… Q~Q
The black fae’s woad-banded ears flickered forward at the sound of the male’s voice. Lost. It was strange to the woman. The concept of getting lost itself was not, however, what the black wolf found to be strange. It was the need for help because of such a state. Indeed, the Warrior had been lost before, but she had simply continued and had regained her path. When a specific destination were required, she supposed that inquiring as to in which direction the destination lay was appropriate. However, the sense of urgency that radiated from the bird-burdened male did not resonate with destination. It was simply a nervousness that filled the air, one that characterized a creature that had entered an arena unknown to it. A simple fear. It was a curious thing to witness for the Woaded Warrior, but she found it interesting enough. This male was no threat to her, and she could guide him as far as he needed. Her own path that lead to spiritual cleansing could wait. Cwmfen chose to give her time to this strange circumstance.
For a brief moment, the white eyes, glowing in the half-light of the dawn, turned away from the male. A pink tongue flickered from the hungry jaws, harmlessly grooming the fur upon her breast where the woad had been covered by the earth. Despite her seeming preoccupation, however, the woad-banded ears did not miss his words. "Cour des Miracles," the alto melody repeated softly, her white gaze returning to the green-eyed male. The she-wolf’s head was tilted imperceptibly. The wolf-born female found it curious again: he wished to return to his home. She watched him for a few moments more with quiet eyes. Perhaps the luperci were slowly forgetting the ways of the wolf. Perhaps such a path was inevitable. The Warrior could not deny that she herself was a luperci now, since the body of her father had caused her blood to turn. A faint smile, almost sad, flickered across her silent lips as she offered him a simple nod. "I know the way to your home."
Fluidly, the Woaded she-wolf rose to her paws and took several silent steps in the direction of the King-led pack. Turning back, the Warrior paused briefly to allow him to follow. The Raven in the boughs above took flight quietly, his single eye turned toward the one that had grown lost. "How did you become lost?" The Warrior placed the question in the air, gently revealing her curiosity. She did not mock him, however, and the tranquility of that quiet melody held no malice. The wolf was simply curious of this circumstance that she could not yet understand.