Ouroboros Spine j - hollow life

One found him – the pale she-wolf was quick to intercept him.. the sign of discipline something he was accustom to from his raising, and something he would expect no less of Tartok. He stilled his pacing form then – the auburn of his pelt glinting in the sun as his eyes studied the she-wolf. His stance turned neutral – he did not bow to her, but nor did he disrespect her.. he was upon her pack’s borders, and her words were law in this setting.

One ear flickered in the direction of approaching steps, and as his pale brown eyes drifted from his silent questioner, they fell upon the wolf he truly sought. It took only a moment for recognition to settle, and pleased that she was indeed here, despite the intermingled scents upon the border, the fiery wolf wasted no time in lowering his bulking form significantly in her presence.

He listened to her, taking no insult to her orders. Instead, his gaze would drift to her neck, avoiding eye contact. “Tonravik,” he returned, determining that their conversation would fill in the white she-devil to her satisfaction. “They have sent me to aide you in the next Tartok branch formation – I see you have already begun,” he mused, his voice a low-key rumble. “I await your orders, Issumator'” Whether his reasoning was listened to before the other decided to take the Issumator's law under direct test, he did not know -- yet his form was tense, awaiting the motion of attack from the pale wolf.