Ravensblood Forest from silence rose a symphony

It was another pale wolf. This one had fur dashed in the softest shades of cream with touches of beige, staring upon him with a mournful expression upon that long face of his. Words were rumbled out into the air as Stjornuati caught his breath between them, but it was a deep, strange language that had never reached Akai’s ears before… an outsider even more far removed than he himself? The white wolf was always reactionary, never forthcoming; if there was a battle to be had he would not be the one to lay a paw first upon the other. Thus, as the wind ruffled the long tresses of that reddied mane Akai stilled the quivering of his muzzle, raising from his defensive stoop cautiously. Entangled in the fur of his throat, two raven feathers hung untouched by gore and blood.

In approval the birds began their latent cawwing, no longer fearing that they would reveal the other too soonly, new birds flocking to join the feast. A few dared to dance at Akai’s feet about the bloodied ground, their rounded eyes inquisitively catching Stjornuati’s from time to time as if to say ‘we do not fear; there is no danger here’.

“... I know not what you are saying.” Came the smaller males voice in low, gravelly tones, ears tentatively relaxing upon his head. As always Akai’s facial expression was a deep mixture of concern and outright steeliness, the glinting golds of his eyes never giving the other lithe canine any hidden messages or clues as to whether he was being truthful or not. “I am sorry if these are your hunting grounds, but please understand; I have been walking for moons… and my child is hungry.”