Northstar Vale Blue and Yellow

Lecter had allowed himself to be tugged through the Vale, assessing her grip upon his nape for surety before deciding not to yank away from her. He did not need his own blood added to the mat of it upon his withers. Icewater eyes appraised the land as he passed; he did pull against her somewhat to survey the verdant sprawl. It was a lovely enough land, but dust choked the air, and feral senses informed him that the woman drew him toward a place of doom.

Presently, a crick had made a painful debut betwixt his shoulders; the shaman slowed his gait deliberately. "I am well within your lands; a mere call would bring your wolves down upon me. Release me now; I shall walk beside you. I cannot run from such a quick beast as yourself," he mocked, eyes glittering madly at her.

He hoped that she would see the wisdom of his words, for he spoke truthfully; he did not have the advantage of speed or age, and should he somehow evade her firm grasp, there were others — say, the black dog, for instance — that could be brought down upon his head.