Northstar Vale it's the smell of schizophrenia

Perhaps he should have heeded the interpack tension betwixt his own pack and the Vale, but his own sense of confidence and worth had inflated his head beyond reason. Her snarl was met with a low, cold rejoinder of his own; Lecter did not fear the great woman, nor did he fear her black dog.

It is of no account to you, the white witch hissed, but duty to my pack brings me to your borders. A gesture of his paw was given to the clenched bunch of sage. Unfortunately, yours is the land by which this grows, and it is necessary for healing.

Doubtful that the woman would see the worth of his argument, Lecter's hackles flared as if he were an irate bird and he glared into her eyes. I will take my leave now, and I will not return. I have what I came for, and it does not belong to you or the Vale.