Ah! Well, that had not been what Lefty expected. They scrambled, slightly, as the borzoi-wolf grabbed them by the scruff, but didn't argue. What would be the point, anyway? The sorrowful-looking cross dragged Lefty into the whirlpool, and they went limp, not bothering to fight or argue it. As they stopped, and Lefty hauled themselves up from the ice cold water, they shook out their coat, pacing in a slow circle before running in a faster one, moving so that their coat would dry out.
No good in dying of the chill.
As they slowed, Lefty took in the wall's appearance, the drawings on the wall standing out to them in an undeniable way. They stepped forward, ears swivelling forward, sharp. Their head tilted, and they approached the wall with its strange writing, leaning close to read it, to try and figure out what it said. Maybe there was a commonality between the drawings that they could spot.
Lefty has chosen WISDOM.
"Speech"
