Moonspear one angry dwarf and 200 solemn faces

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Slavik’s low hums stopped abruptly when he heard the chuff, he turned to face the dark furred woman as she neared. Hydra, the Beta, he remembered her well. She looked much more friendly than when they’d first met, though he could only expect as much. When they’d first met, he’d been a stranger at the borders. At least now he’d begun to wear the scent of the Moonspear pack, and she’d likely grown accustomed to his.

He gave her a cheerful smile and shrugged, I guess, it’s just something I like to do for fun. I’ll probably forget it soon but I can always just come up with another, he said, as musicality was just a part of who he was. It held a special place in his heart but also seemed no big deal to him.