Moonspear Trying to hold on

He wished he hadn't needed to put it out into the air that he was part dog, even though it was apparent. Saying it aloud made him inwardly cringe; it just sounded bad. At least, that's what he assumed from the viewpoint of these wolves. Personally, he was proud of his blood, having known his father to be incredibly sharp and powerful. But they didn't know him, and perhaps they wouldn't have wanted to, given their past with the other pack.

Then came another question, and Bernard nodded with a tense lick of his nose. I can, but I excel in combat. My father trained me from a young age. I could also help in taking down bigger game. Honestly, he was a horrid hunter when it came to small prey—he was just too lumbering of a figure. It made keeping himself fed as a loner incredibly difficult. But, if given the opportunity to hunt large prey which he could rely on his brute strength to take down, he knew he'd be invaluable.