Roleplay

[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=36127840] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/361279/36127840_350.png[/img] [/url][/center] [size=2]The wildclaw clicked and paced slowly, as though she were doing nothing but observing the wind breezing pine needles past the edge of the clan's territory. Willow strips joined the bunch, since.. They were in the Wispwillow Grove, after all. Her powerful hindclaws burrowed into the ground for a second as she considered her options. A slightly smaller Corven pitter-pattered over to her, his claws silenced by the moist ground below. He cleared his throat for a moment, and then, in Talonok, asked, "Are you alright?" In the very same language, she replied, "Could be better. You?" She glanced wearily over at him, her intelligent pink eyes boring into his own yellow-tinted ones. "I think I'd agree with that," he decided to answer with, before settling on a slightly rotten log. Priekopa joined him, sighing. "I wonder how your clan is doing. Our clan, I mean." He gave no answer, for he had none to give. This was understandable to the wildclaw. It hurt to think of home most days. Probably even more for her familiar/mentor, considering he had been born and raised there long before she had. Not exactly born, but raised nonetheless.