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Something shifted in the creamy-furred woman’s face for a moment, a shift of her grin that made the brown wolf smile back at her. It was moments like these when he wondered who the true Amy was: the smiling woman who enjoyed his company, the dark streak that surged with bloodlust as when she’d nearly taken off his arm in bed, or the merchant looking for her own prosperity. It was a question he could not answer—probably because he could hardly answer it when it pertained to himself.
Levent wagged his tail at mention of the route, looking forward to that day. He was ready to immerse himself in the culture of this place, whatever that meant, and see if he truly could make a living here without conforming entirely. More than anything, he wondered if the answer to his most precious question lay in the realm of ’Souls…
The settlement came into view, and the Turkish man quickly slipped the cloth from his wrist and tied it up around his head like usual to contain his dark, messy hair. The blue strip hung into his face until he twisted the whole band to adjust it, smirking faintly at that and the fact that Wilson was having a difficult time balancing on his shoulders with the constant movement. However, the cat refused to land on the ground, perhaps too anxious about the new sights; not that Lev could blame him for that, especially after the earlier attack. His fur fluffed up slightly in worry, but he kept his face smooth as he looked around at the huts and dens: seemingly abandoned.
Giving the cart horse one last glance, the merchant followed quietly after Amy, his ears lowering when he the dog moved quickly and unexpectedly: bursting into a clearing where one of the tribe wolves was crying out. Not all of the words were understood by Levent, breathlessly coming to stand next to Amy, but they didn’t sound nice.
“Is there—is there something I could do?” the brown-furred man asked uncertainly, his pale eyes flicking to her. He wasn’t sure if the shaman was having some sort of fit or if this was something Amy was used to. The absence of the others bothered him, though, only helped by Wilson standing vigil on his shoulder, scanning the area carefully.
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