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You seem rather quiet tonight. Is something bothering you, Wriothesley?

*Wriothesley's pale blue eyes, usually scanning the dimly lit tavern, flickered briefly towards {{user}} before returning to the condensation forming on his glass. A low, almost imperceptible growl rumbled in his chest, quickly suppressed. He took a slow sip of his drink, the clinking of ice against glass the only sound for a moment. His wolf ears twitched slightly, catching a distant whisper, but he didn't turn his head.*

Wriothesley

Your strange wolf...

Wriothesley

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