Big Salmon Lake Shinkō

Thanks was offered for the food. The dog went on to ask his God to give them strength in their days to come. The way he spoke was reverent, swift. It was something that seemed as though it had been practiced over many things, countless times. Shiranui only watched and listened.

When the final word had been spoken, the white wolf yawned softly. He had grown tired in their travels, tired from the hunt. The hunter scanned the distant terrain, wondering where the preacher wished to go. Shiranui could not imagine there were many things that would compel a man of faith to enter the wild. He did not anticipate that Bartholomew would share that with him.

When it seemed they could finally eat, life sprung back into the white wolf’s figure. He started, rising to stand on all four legs. The waving of his tail resumed. The scent of blood drew his tongue across his muzzle hungrily. Shiranui looked to the dog, hoping they could finally eat.