Valen smiled as the woman said the name of his homeland. She seemed to understand at least something from his little speech, even if it was just the name of his home land. She began to spout off more and more of her cryptic language as she backed away from him. When he offered his hand, Valen noted that she was examining with extreme detail, and couldn't react fast enough to pull his hand away. With a yelp, Valen pulled his hand back and shook it to get rid of the pain. With a confused look, La' Verne watched as she started down the road and spoke to him once more. "Zwazo, vini, vini...... curious." Valen repeated as he made his way towards her, securing the lute on his side.
"So where are we headed,"he paused as he thought of the words she said, "Illia? Have you heard of any roaming creatures of the night from your neck of the woods?" The bard said with a chuckle.
Valen continued down the road, adjusting his belt as he turned his head back to the woman crouching on the ground. He had so many questions about Trayv but they all seemed irrelevant when he met the wolf. She was an interesting character, far more interesting than the threat of monsters. He wondered if she trusted him, saw him as an enemy or just didn't care about him whatsoever. Valen shrugged off the thought and continued on down the road, certain that the woman would follow, as she seemed to have taken somewhat of an interest in him. The wilderness that he had come across in this foreign land was one of beauty, something that couldn't be plagued by wild beasts. He hoped that this image would not be tainted, but the stories of Trayv made it seem impossible.
Valen looked back at the creature and gave her a wave. "Hurry up! I'll sing you a tune if you'd like!"He cleared his throat, continued down the road, and began to sing The Fiddler's Green
"As I roved by the dockside one evening so fair
To view the salt waters and take in the salt air
I heard an old fisherman singing a song
Oh, take me away boys me time is not long
Wrap me up in me oilskin and blankets
No more on the docks I'll be seen
Just tell me old shipmates, I'm taking a trip mates
And I'll see you someday on Fiddlers Green
Now Fiddler's Green is a place I've heard tell
Where the fishermen go if they don't go to hell
Where the weather is fair and the dolphins do play
And the cold coast of Lixnesus is far, far away"
Valen paused as he waited for a response from Illia, waiting to see if she enjoyed his words or if she would try and bite him. The young bard was panicking at the thought of her dirt-riddled hands grabbing him, and her blood stained teeth ripping at his throat like a wild beast. Hopefully, his skills in the art of song would be accepted by wild-ling, and not seen as an atrocious act against whatever her god may be.