Iskandor halted his approach as the girl turned, her green eyes narrowing with an edge that didn’t escape him, but he chose not to dwell on it—at least not outwardly. He let the wag of his tail continue, reassurance that he meant no harm. That was important, his mother had made sure to instill that in him. But above all, his father taught pride and confidence. “I hope I’m not interrupting.” He gestured with a tilt of his head toward the marble formation she had been studying.
Though this place interested him, he was doing a bit of his own studying as well. A study on this girl. “I’m Iskandor,” he offered after a beat, a simple introduction as his lips curled into a small, friendly smile, the kind that invited conversation without demanding it. Or so he hoped that was how it came off as.
