Ouroboros Spine oh no, she's at the bottom of that bottle

Both of his companions seemed to take his response with acceptance, and as he moved forward to continue, they amicably trailed after him – something he encouraged with a cant of his muzzle. One ear shifted to Kroc’s question – his own brown eyes gliding over the red she-wolf before pushing himself upward once more, one paw casually placed upon the thick tree trunk, the other clawing downward to leave mark to those that dared try to prowl past their borders.

The scent of the Spine was unquestionable – should any wolf dare try to cross their borders, it would be their head that would be left also to ward off any intruders. Yet somehow, power drew those more foolish.. and thus had been proved time and again by the wayward waif, Kivi, who insisted on returning time and again.