The introductions of the woman and her daughter come with a sort of decorum that makes the wolfdog sit up a little straighter. Makes her wish she was a little less unkempt, that she'd scrubbed between her toes better or trimmed her nails more often. Jael's smile is kind, and her tail does give a little swish. "Jael." The child was being raised in a different one than her, and they were both here to learn. Her mother too, from the looks of it.
Anxieties forgotten as Halo launches into her lesson, something she can be grateful for. Something to focus on, something to quiet her mind. Jael gazes at the lump of clay in front of her, looking at the striations of slates, blues, reds. Something almost lavender, too, catches her eye. As she squishes the clay apart and works it, her tail thumps. It really does feel nice under her paws.
J A E L
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As her keepers, Gilgamesh and Modesty may join any of Jael’s threads if they deem necessary.
Professor
