The more she spoke the more Greer realized that the ghostly female also had a unique of speaking as well. She was not as blunt and abrupt as the prince was, but there was a peculiar way the words rolled off her tongue that intrigued him. It was not something he had heard before, but he did not question it; she had a quirk, just like he did. Perhaps one day she would explain where it came from, or he would be brave enough to ask, but for now he kept his thoughts to himself. Greer knew how much he disliked it when others questioned his speech, and he did not want to put Hecate through the same discomfort.
The less annoying her drawn out sentences became, the more irritated he became with himself. The prince felt as though he was betraying his character by allowing himself to enjoy her presence; could he truly be a wolf of the shadows if he put himself in the company of others? A deep frown cut across his lips at the thought as he diverted his mercury gaze from her, although his ears remained tuned to her as she spoke. He was suddenly possessed by the sudden desire to flee from her side and disappear into the trees; it was only when he tossed the idea aside that he realized he had subconsciously distanced himself from her side. With the frown glued to his dark lips, the boy returned to his original position as the girl commented on his family’s “stoic” demeanor. He responded first with a nod, amused by her (accurate) discovery. “Mother would like Hecate, even if Hecate talks a lot,” he responded bluntly with a stoney expression. “All Ridge family can’t be stoic,” he added with a soft shrug, hoping that the comment would make Hecate feel as though she belonged in the Ridge. “Greer just not like words. Greer like quiet and alone time.” As the words fell from his tongue he hoped that he had not offended her. As much as he was enjoying their stroll he would never admit it aloud, not even to himself. He just hoped that she did not talk his explanation the wrong way.