And How He Waits

A stranger would approach, a foreign pack scent, though that did not necessarily make the man an enemy… outright at least. Ora wasn’t one for warmongering and the like anyway; it wasn’t really her way. The scars on his face, while they might have scared off a more timid woman, caught Oracle in a sense of wonder. How could one man be so scarred, yet live to tell the tail? Yet that wasn’t all that appeared fascinating about the brute. His voice, his accent, was another thing that had Oracle wondering where he was from, what his story was. Sure she hadn’t yet seen the worst part of his face, but Oracle was intrigued all the same.

“I suppose I must confess I’m a wanderer at heart. I’ve a pack, sure, but it doesn’t quite feel… home.” Oracle felt guilty for saying such a thing. She was around her family… but she still felt distant. Was that not her fault alone? “Sorry. I’m sure the last thing you want to hear is a fae’s ramblings about how her life is not the way she wanted it to be. Surely you’ve a more interesting story to tell, hmm?” A smile graced her face, and the female cocked her head to the side. “I’m Oracle Ancora by the way. Might I have the honor of knowing yours, sir?”