Ouroboros Spine let me guess, someone stole your sweet-roll

murgash waited, breath raspy -- when damien's reply came without hesistance, rehearsed and confident, murgash knew. a visible change in demeanor came over him; he was among his kin, his brother -- while the hackles were slow to settle his shoulders and tail lost their stiffness.

he craned his neck, following damien's earlier movement and there upon the wolf's shoulders was the red brand of the brotherhood. murgash grinned, a goofy, strange expression -- he lacked the fur to carry such a mark proudly.

"roight - good answer. an' de color ov noight is sanguine an' all det shit." he replied, looking damien over. the marigolds were forgotten. "now - who it be ye lookin' for?"