G
glaizedonut
Guest
Original poster
Griffin's presence hung as thickly in the air as the scent of food and fresh fabric did. His authority, evident in the sideways, tentative glances of the children that had surrounded him earlier. Their glances were in reverence, however, and not fear as Ezra expected, and that warmed him a little bit. He was still wary around the older man as he wondered aloud about his apparently peculiar case. "I'll let you know now that I'm not in any 'tribe', or whatever, unless you consider some of the stinky rodent kids I hang out with in the sewers to be part of my tribe," the words rolled off his tongue as he sat on the mess of cotton on the cot and sniffed the food. "Wow, you eat cooked stuff, even though you're shifters."