Sawtooth Spire rhythm of devotion

Superstitions and fairy tales flew from the black wolf's mouth, and Kaertok listened with only mild curiosity. How could anyone believe this stuff? Furthermore, why was he yammering on about it to a complete stranger? Kaertok might have given him some credit if they'd had some kind of history, but he had literally just wandered up here and started talking about nonsense. It was no wonder his parents had left this place. Well, that and the herds had moved on.

The child of Tartok continued to stare blankly at the male.