Frostfire Ridge she speaks a language

They seemed content to keep him pinned for now, and Phares had no objection to it if it kept them from harming him. He was keenly aware of every movement the two strangers made, watched every show of teeth and minute change of body language. He kept his muscles tensed and was ready to spring away from them the second he had a chance and run as fast as he could back to the Grotto. For the moment, however, he was at the brute's mercy.

Drageda. Phares looks at the tawny male, his gaze telling that he did not recognise such a name. A pack? Family? Other religion? "I-I'm new to these lands, I only wished to wander," he stammered, about to add an apology onto the end before the other man's words interjected, and he turned to him with a quizzical look. "Our Cardinal? Hiram?" he asked to clarify. What did these wolves know of their church?