Hoshor Plains Running at my side

The deep voice of his brother was carried by the wind to his attentive ears, and instantly they turned around towards Lavakho, followed by Rakharo's fire-colored eyes. Lavakho was big even from afar, a true Dotharan wolf, he was, the best of the Dotharan blood ran through his veins.

So why had he been as fool as to mix it with a simple coyote?

"Brother!" Rakharo called with expressionless excitement, thrilled in his own insipid was to see his brother again at last, but still with a bitter taste at the mack of his tongue. Could it be betrayal? "I've been looking for your fat ass all over the steppes!" he joked, a thing that only happened around Lavakho.

"The Rhoa know that a hot summer is upon them. They're looking for water." he claimed with all security, knowing that there was a large current of water to the east. He would have to name it, a Dotharan name, a proper name.