Expression morphing to downcast disappointment at the Shifter's words, the looming warrior only nods glumly at her decision.
Rolling his shoulders and then straightening, he waves farewell to the hunter, remarking, 'T'was good ta make yer acquaintance, Foloshadè o' Ofori-Tigris. Good luck wit' tha ax, an' I hope we might see one 'nother in tha future. Sovereign's protect ya and yer path till then.'
Opening the stout door, the wind of a blustery day blowing strong, Wulfcyne mentions, 'I got a few things ta collect, I'll be seein' ye others a' tha boltrail. Try ta find a mage ta come along, neh?'
With a final salute of thanks to Brews, the imposing soldier marches out of the Tavern, closing the door behind him.
ooc; ready when you are, Mogg.