Hoshor Plains Pluviophile

Rakharo turned around to face him, his stance full of pride and worthy of a Khal. Even when he was soaked to the bone and underneath the rain, he still looked formidable and powerful, just as every leader should be. Azzaro knew some of the natives here valued brains over size and power, but he himself thought that a true leader should have both. A wolf with only muscle would lose, and a wolf with only brains would also lose. The best combination was a mix of both, and Rakharo had that.

"M'athchomaroon," Azzaro returned the greeting with a dip of his head and tilted his head slightly as the Khal spoke about liking the rain. He had never heard him speak that way, for Rakharo always seemed to be so boringly stoic all the time. He would be better if he was always like this, he thought to himself as he replied to the Khal's question. "No," he said.