Rising Sun Valley Entrance to Nevada

Rhanno gave no hint that he had heard Zoratto's snarls and insults, instead keeping his gaze focused on the distant mountains, expression sour and sullen as it usually was. Despite his captive's words, he was still firm in his belief that his Khalas were the ones at fault here. There was no doubt that they were all just waiting for the right time to turn against him, thinking that Tihollo was the more capable leader. That man would lead them to ruin, Rhanno was sure of it. He was no son of his anymore.

With a grunt, the wolf rolled his scarred shoulders, feeling his bones creak and weary muscles burn from their arduous trek. He was still a warrior, despite his age and greying features, cutting a formidable figure that dwarfed many others his age. Dark eyes turned to Zoratto, studying his slim form with disgust that he did not care to conceal. He didn't retort, too weary to argue with the boy, instead simply fixing him in his gaze, waiting for any other moronic statements to escape from his mouth.