Memories come and go

Trying to discern how another wolf was feeling without sight was a difficult thing. The fear was notable in her voice, though it seemed to calm slightly as Veigar's own aggression did. Feeling like he had some grasp of control over an interaction did wonders for his confidence; he lived in constant fear of things going sideways before he could recover. The predictability was reassuring for the blind wolf.

She said he could call her Triss and he nodded, recording that to memory. He'd remember her voice and scent, and her name, he was certain of that. "Triss," he repeated quietly. "A long story? I have plenty of time." His voice wasn't half as aggressive as it had been but it had an air of authority to it that was undeniable. After a beat he sat down, expecting her to get into it even if she didn't sound particularly eager to.