Ankyra Sound lieder und gesänge

The inquiry was answered in a tongue that the ashen ghost had not heard in many years. His ears swiveled atop his crown toward the sable brute, and he flashed the other male with a sharp, fiery stare. The fur along his neck and shoulders seemed to bristle slightly, giving him an appearance of a ragged, quilled monster. Kierkegaard drew his tongue along the whiskers of his muzzle before he snorted in response to Mahler’s statement. It was false, at least as far as the mercenary was concerned. With a curling smirk, the wraith bent his neck and scooped a large fish in his mouth before turning and tossing it toward his companion.

“Nein, fisch ist für...“ but his words failed him, and he furrowed his brow into a tightly knit line that sat across his orange-gold stare. “Spindly dogs,“ he then concluded in English, lashing his tongue against his muzzle once more with an amused smirk. It was meant as a jab, but the hound did not much care if Mahler preferred tree bark to rodents; Kierkegaard was only interested in getting a rise from his company. The ghost reached into his cache and pulled a hare from it, clutching the catch between his teeth.