role-playception

Shaye would give Poem a kiss on the top of her head and looked to the ravens as they went about their work. She was certain she caught a hint of mischief in Winters eyes, so she wasn’t yet buying this ‘coming of age’ part, but she definitely assumed this was a game that some of the ravens played when they were bored. She hadn’t realised her companion had a flair for the dramatic.

Winter nodded her black head towards her nephew. “He sounds fearsome indeed.” the bird said, sounding pleased. “A fighter is a well rounded class, some other suggestions, are Cleric - a healer, a Druid, a creature of nature who can change its form. A Monk, one who fights bare handed and can avoid some of the most fearsome blows. A Ranger, a woodsman who can track with the best of them and fight from a distance. A bard, who can invigorate his companions through words” the bird said carefully, before turning to Poem. “Put forth ideas and I will help you form them” she suggested, bobbing her head gently as she moved a little closer to the young wolf.