Ouroboros Spine some kind of

For what? his look implored as he gazed on, but he was not answered, and the black wolf swished his tail as instead he was replied to with a question; a peculiar question. "Sing?" he echoed, his dark brows furrowing over his green eyes, his mouth tightening. For a moment he waited, scanning the male's face for some explanation, or some clue that the question had been posed as jest, for all wolves could sing insofar as Skoll knew.

He drew a breath, slow, deep and steady, and inclined his sleek head with his muzzle lifted to the sky. He howled. His song was was not like the cold gravel of his voice; it was smooth, rich, and haunting. It rose up and spread for miles, its message but a simple locator note that said he was here. When he finished, his song descending into a whisper and then nothing, he looked to the golden wolf once more with a lifted brow.