Northstar Vale pale widows

stigmata, keen as the devil himself, did not often find himself impressed; but he was amused by the concept of this solitary wolf taking on a herd alone, and the expression shone in a bright flash of his eyes. "we shall indeed hunt, sir, but you mistake us still." his jaws parted to continue, but an ear twitched as he noted the approach of another - one too many by his count - and he turned his muzzle to spy takiyok, and her position at mahler's side.

he recovered from his shock with mild-mannered grace and lifted his tail in a belatedly happy wag. he eyed the pair of them rather cheekily, his "betrothed" especially; emoting to them a brand of mock betrayal. stop cheating on me with each other.

the warhound glanced finch then, who seemed about ready to jump out of her goldspun pelt, and rend their relatively harmless company from his mortal coil. stigmata motioned for her attention. "easy now, my lady," he warned with a soft growl. "we will meet many threats to us, surely, but this is not one. hunger makes for a sharp tongue and a dulled mind. we must not be eager to react, or let ourselves be rash with wolves acting out of need." he swung his lean muzzle back towards the stranger. "you will help us, if you want to remain on this territory and partake in our patronage. we are not here to nurture the withering."

holding the stranger flatly in his sights, stigmata motioned in the direction of the traveling herd. "so you have more sowing to do. plow the way forward and coordinate this hunt. do so successfully, and you will have earned your right to dine." simply taking him along, letting him act as a toothy drone wouldn't do. he was so eager to forge the path, let him do the grunt of the work, and let diaspora reap the benefits. all they had to do was follow and bite; it would be a meal as they came if the rogue was any good at all.