The Bracken Woods tell them God just dropped by to forgive our sins

It was not long before Oqdis followed him through the brush and found the dark wolf. Longshanks watched him with a wary expression, keeping himself at a reasonable distance but feeling his body drawn to the struggling brute. The scent of Holden came in close behind; for only a moment, the Borzoi turned his head toward their traveling companion and offered a soft smile to the Husky. Holden was not the one he was concerned with, though. Pulling his pale gaze away from the dog, Longshanks peered back to the inky wolf. He watched the dangerous dance of the other male's eyes and saw a madness there; something had plagued his mind.

Throwing away the regard for his own personal safety, Longshanks took a few gentle steps forward and lowered his skull toward the earth. The breeze toyed with the curls of his pelt for a moment before allowing them to settle in place. Cypress had hissed something to him, demanding to know where the nameless she was. The hound canted his head ever so slightly to the left before shaking his skull and drawing his ears back. His tail wavered slightly between his hocks.

“Hush now, sweet thing,” he whispered to the inky brute. “We do not know of her. Breathe; gather yourself and perhaps we can assist you.” His voice was gentle and soft against the harsh world. The tender warmth of his features would surely be enough to settle the stranger down, if only a little. If not, Longshanks would have placed himself in some great amount of danger.