"Yes, I know. Furless people, strange people. Yes, am furless too, but see? Have furtail, like you. Am wolf. No. Won't eat you. Too small. Yes. Your tree. We leave you."
He's speaking animal with the little one - it's his mother tongue.
The man could sense the sorcerer's suprise. It was important to him she wasn't afraid of him.
He quickly grabbed her hand and placed it on his chest, right where his heart was beating beneath.
"Friend", he said. One of the few words he knew. "Friend. Friend!"
POUFF!
Suddenly, instead of a wolf, a young man is sitting infront of her! Long, messy hair in the wolf's grey tone, a scar across his cheek. His eyes are closed in silent silent bliss - he scratches he still gets behind the wolfears growing out of his head feel so good! +
Walking through camp in his twolegged form, about to refill the waterbuckets. He's wearing a leathern loincloth. That's all. Doesn't really like clothes.