Our skin gets thicker, living out in the snow
CREVAN
Wherever there was a damsel in distress, you could be sure a poseur was somewhere nearby just waiting to prove himself. This time he comes in the shape of a faded bay stallion, crashing through the river and brush in order to use himself as a fleshy shield. Crevan had come to expect suspicion from the others (his reaction to Leilan’s entrance and the scathing Dammit! are something close to a chuckle and the quick jerk of his furry brows,) but this was an endearing thing to see. He hoped the the odd mare appreciated the effort.
Simpering quietly to himself, Crevan the wolf sits with a decidedly quick motion and lifts both ears to hear the question asked of him. “I was going to ask you the same thing.” He speaks roughly, casting his voice so that both could hear him clearly above the babbling waters. For a moment his snout thrusts in Leilan’s direction, assessing the capability of those sturdy legs and muscled back. The idea of a fight causes his thick, round head to tilt curiously and then, he’s back to deciphering the set of mahogany eyes peering out at him from beside the speckled man.
“You looked possessed.” Crevan shrugs, lifting himself into a standing position once more. “Then again, I doubt my sudden appearance helped.” He whuffs, a breathy sort of laugh that softened his otherwise sharp edges.
Hunkering low before shaking out his damp pelt, the skin-shifter glances once between the both of them, muttering a low sigh before starting introductions himself. “I’m Crevan … normally I don't see many others out here at this time.”
@[Briseis] @[Leilan]