The Sentinels les moissonneurs

LOL.. I was so confused by the language.. I was like.. that sound slike french.. but is spelled differently.. what is going oooon. /theworstCanadianever

The man was a lissome creature – Constantine was no power house of a man himself, but the wolf before him was a slender sort, feminine in many aspects with a beautiful pale coat. The realization that the stranger was indeed a male only stemmed from the scent that drifted to the dark wolf, and Constantine’s bright eyes fell upon the other’s eyes.
 
Donnelaith was a pack of tolerance – a stark difference to the wolves of Tartok he had spent the majority of his winter with.. and yet he found the casual ease of this life  suited him far better, and so as he skirted closer, Constantine remained relatively relaxed in posture.
 
The words the other spoke were familiar – his father had been fluid in a few languages, and had done his best to teach his children all he knew. Constantine struggled more with this one than the others – and found himself thrown by the lilting accent of words that were only distinctly familiar to him.
 
There was something calming about the other wolf – elegant. Something Constantine seemed to fail within himself. “Non. Est comme ça partout?” The inkling that the insects had indeed shadowed the Wilds completely had been the logical conclusion.. but his heart could only hold on to the hope that the coast was all that had been hit.