Bitterroot Valley a song note

nares flared with indignation, but the horselord kept himself still. "a large boast from so scrawny a warg," he shot back. in the next moment, however, his ears swiveled forward and a low chuckle echoed in the barrel of his chest. "i am no deer. i am arrassendil. friend to deer." 

felaróf shook out his "hairiness;" it unfurled into a pale banner that scrolled silkenly in some unseen wind. "what is your name, ráca?"