I have a very particular set of skills, skills that make me a nightmare

Crux was doing a not so great job at hiding how much Widow scared the shit out of him. She hadn't said or done anything to really warrent it he just had worked her up in his mind, and frankly he didn't want to give her any reason to doubt his care for her daughter or worse force him to leave. He wanted her to accept him, he would settle for that. Didn't expect her to like him, but if he could be good enough to be allowed to stay, be allowed to keep seeing Triss, he could be happy.

Maybe he was giving her too much power in his head. Maybe the woman was much more hands off than he was assuming. But he also couldn't help imagining her being particularly protective of the little wolf with the crystals in her lungs. Not for the first time he worried his own disability would count against him, because he wasn't her kid, because he'd never be able to physically defend Triss the way a more "normal" wolf could. Would she understand if he tried to express how his disability had given them something to connect with, had been the reason he never thought of her as weak, lesser than or fragile? Quite the contrary, he was pretty sure out of the two of them Triss was the one who could hold her own against nearly anything, even if only because she'd will it to be true. Last time he'd tried to take on a challenge he'd gotten the long burn scar across his throat as a souvenir and nightmares. And what he would have called a crippling fear of magma if the substance was anywhere near common.

These were all worries he'd been stewing on since the decision to join Triss in her new home, and they came rushing to the front of his mind when the voice called out for him. Crux wished that Triss was there, then felt a flash of shame that he'd wanted to hide behind her. He took a deep breath and with as much speed as his uneven gait could muster he made off, hoping not to get lost in the process.

By the time he'd found the correct path towards Widow his hip had started to ache, the usual side effect of one leg having to over extend just to move, and he was doing his absolute best not to let it show. At least on his face, there was little he could do to mask the worsening limp. It seemed to happen more often and sooner here, he suspected it was the mists, he'd always found more humidity made his hips ache faster than usual. When Widow finally came into view he was probably not starting with the best impression, hobbling his way over. Still he was on his best behaviour. Giving the woman a respectful dip of his head and a "Ma'am" before slowly lowering himself onto his haunches. Normally he would have tried to sit as close to normal as he could manage but the pain in his joints wasn't going to let that happen. Maybe it would count against him, point out where he was weaker than average. Or maybe not protecting his pride, allowing her to see his biggest vulnerability, would work in his favour. Either way the hind leg visibly marked by the crystals that grew from the inside out, locking his ankle in place and then cuffing the outside of his leg, was not tucked under himself. Clearly visible. "Apologies for the wait." He didn't think he'd taken all that long, longer than an able bodied wolf probably would have mind, but still figured it was better to apologize and not have needed to than the inverse.

"Speech!"

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