Mount Everfall your skin knew battle before it knew war

Not impossible; Fortuna was watching of it. Darcia was amused by the correction, and the improbability of having run into a wolf of religion, or at the very least of some sort of faith. Such wolves fascinated him. They often had much to say, much for him to think about, even if he didn't necessarily care for such sentiments himself. "Aye, not impossible then," he hummed, ears flicking. "Unlikely, I think would be a better term." And as their conversation turned to other "unlikely" things, he found that the dreams this man carried with him were far beyond Darcia's imaginative capabilities. He felt as if he could listen to Nero all day, eager to weigh what impossible ideas would fall from his lean jaw next.

The goliath lifted his head and swiped his tongue across his teeth. This was a portion of the conversation he wanted to pay whole attention to, so he stopped in his grooming for the moment to respond. "Thou art a more complex wolf than I, Nero." He breathed through his nose to clear his father's way of speaking from his mind again, before adding: "I cannot fathom how you create such wild dreams."