Private Tales Let's be friends: Best. Friends.

[Evangeline]

Dry as it was, Zana's humor wasn't lost on Evangeline. As much as she tried to appear prim and proper, she couldn't help but let a snicker slide out. She completed gathering any ingredients she might've been looking for in short order, then followed Zana out of the marketplace.

Evangeline beheld her comrade's residence with raised brows. She had heard that Luana Dreadlords were treated well, but this was quite...upscale. The Pirian boarding house was beyond comfortable and quality, but Eva couldn't help but wonder sometimes what it might be like to live on one's own. Perhaps one day, post retirement...

"Do you like dogs?"

Evangeline raised an eyebrow inquisitively. She definitely had never heard of a Dreadlord owning a pet before, and this came off as a question one might ask before deciding whether to lokc said dog in a backroom before having company in.
"I don't dislike them. Lord Tobias and Lady Henrietta have a pair of greyhounds that are quite friendly. Why?"

 

[Zana]

I don't dislike them.

Well that was going to have to do. She nudged open the rest of the door with her hip and threw her new friend a mischievous grin before disappearing inside. The reason for her question became quite evident fairly quickly. Whether the animal that bounded over from the rugs it had been sleeping on previously could be described as a dog when wolf probably would have fit the bill better was another debate. Either way it was a young pup and more fluff than muscle for the moment. Even so it still came up to Zana's knees and it hurled itself first at her and then ran around Evangeline, sniffing.

"We were on our way back from a mission and one of the Virak men shot its mother, I just couldn't leave it to die," it had been a strange feeling but she had chalked it up to whatever had happened with Kol all those nights ago. "He's learning commands, I reckon I'll be able to take him out on hunts or missions one day," as Zana had been talking she had moved over to the kitchen area and set the paper bags down. It was as pretty inside as it was outside. The Dreadlord was clearly meticulous about her living space. The walls were white with a few pieces of art hanging here and there, with cozy looking arm chairs and a whole wall of bookshelves.

"His name's Grey," as if on cue the wolf sat at his name and attempted that little howl of all young pups.