Moonspear big man in tehran

There were many new wolves in the pack of late. Charon wondered if this was what the sacrifice of losing Dhole had brought him; fresh blood, more newcomers, a healthier pack overall. Yet somehow not even ten new wolves seemed equally worthy as one Dhole at the moment, and Charon still missed her and her reliability dearly. If ever he would get his paws on Goober, he would drain life from his wretched body himself and his revenge would be delicious. Amekaze and Flóki had accepted most of the newcomers, and so Charon had yet to meet most of them.

Today as he wandered to find a ledge to just sit on and stare off into the Teekon Wilds from, he stumbled on a plateau with an old, fallen tree, and someone was digging underneath the tree. Presumably one of the newer members looking to make a den of sorts, Charon guessed, and so he approached with a chuff to announce his presence. He carried himself proudly, neck arched, head and tail carried tall; there was no mistaking from his body language that he was the top dog around here.