Sawtooth Spire a city that endures

Malrok observed. He listened. And when the time was right, his voice joined that of his parents'. It was instinct to howl along with them, his small voice drowned out by the larger, deeper, stronger ones. It was small, but it was there. They were inviting the rest of the pack, the rest of the family. Malrok still wasn't quite certain what that meant, but like all things, he would ask if it didn't make sense sooner or later.

When the first other wolf arrived on the scene, Malrok walked toward her with confidence in his step and curiosity in his red-orange eyes. Unlike the demanding and somewhat aggressive Atuaserk, Malrok simply canted his head and awaited her response, whatever it was to be.