Bearclaw Valley Am I being too greedy by even asking this question

The call rang out, and Phocion's icy eyes shimmered with glee. A hunt!

Though he was not the most talented hunter himself, he enjoyed the camaraderie fostered by wolves joining together to kill and to feast. It was, after all, one of the things they had been designed to do. And they relished in it, and the blood brought them all close, a bond of brothers and sisters, flesh and bone.

The last pack hunt in which he had participated, at least in these lands, was on Silvertip, and he had vanished shortly afterwards. Now, Phocion was determined to prove himself--and he would stick around, this time. The white priest bounded toward the source of Xan's call, coming across several wolves assembled already. He gave Indra a beaming smile and drew close to Poet, with whom he felt a special bond, especially after the night of the blood moon.

There were others, some he'd seen, some not. He would have to meet them all at some point, one-on-one. For now, he gave Alexander a curt nod, gaze waiting patiently for further instruction.