Sleeping Dragon From each according to his ability; to each according to his need

Hearing footsteps from afar, Goliath's large ears perked up. Turning around to lie on his belly, he lifted his collosal weight on four paws and reared his head to face the source. It was hard to see, but he could make out the faint silouette of another wolf, rather stockier and much larger than any of the wolves that were in his pack. Maybe it was a new recruit? Stepping forwards, his thick stunted nose finally started to work, and past the smell of salt and sulfur that clouded the air, he could not find a single trace of Thuringwethil or Wildfire anywhere on the brute, who was still several meters away and partially out of sight.

Stepping forwards, he gave a low, rumbling growl as a warning, but part of Goliath was actually quite excited. Finally, maybe there was true, worthy opponent. Physically, he had never been bested in combat since arriving in the Teekons, and there was no thrill in a curbstomp fight.

Finding that it was finally the right time to speak, he lifted his massive chest high and roared a single, booming word.

 "HALT"