and wonder why -- joining

EVERY GRIN WE SHARE IS LIKE.
"speech." . 'thoughts' . attack

flicking an ear in greeting to sageadvice, he smiled under his veil before remembering that others couldn't properly make out his face. raising a paw, he seemed to tap his chin in thought, tilting his head slightly as he studied the owl with a quiet perseverance. digging back into his satchel, he would pull out his notebook and the charcoal pencil with it; setting to a quick scrawl upon it's pages, the scarred tom would write out, 'Hello, am Aesior. Mute. Try help.', it hurt if he wrote for too long, so this would have to make due for now. he was still too injured to manage a shift and use his voice in those other bodies of his, so his birth body and one of the most damaged, was what he had to utilize.

'Your eye. Hurt. Wing can set if broken.', he would add on, looking towards her wing. would he actually be able to set it? he had smaller paws than seven, and well ... he didn't know if his medical knowledge would actually be of use.

A PRAYER COMMITTED TO THE SONG WE SING.
aesior opheles of tanglewood. -- grim - feline shifter.

credit @/teef