we'll never be royals

The wolf rose, lids parting to reveal red eyes; Toril's ears flicked back briefly in a moment of uncertainty. Green fur, red eyes, both traits she'd never seen until now, which made the combination of them in one body unnerving. But the she-wolf remained calm, giving Toril no real reason to be wary of her, and after a light prickling of her fur down her spine she forced herself to take a breath and relax, to focus on the reply.

Guile only gave the stranger a short glance before returning to his drinking; Toril grinned. "He doesn't speak, even to me, most of the time. You should hear him talk whenever he spots another of his kind though." Dropping to a sit, Toril made herself comfortable in the shade of the trees, lifting her head to make the most of the breeze that swept through. "Us too. It was just me for a while, and then for whatever reason Guile tagged on. He's good company, most of the time."

A glance around at the sanctuary, a spot of life amid the hot desert, and she looked back at Willoughby. "Do you live here? I wouldn't think there'd be enough prey around here for that."