Bonesplinter Ravine Lost in translation

Roll here!

Feel free to have your wolves roll a 1d2 Successful or Unsuccessful roll to escape each round of it continues that long. Sorry the Saints are a bunch of territorial meanies. :’>

Kynareth’s really not too far away, rather he is about to go check on Simmik when he hears a quick alert howl. Then a burst of dog like screams and growls. A fight? Oh, he loves a fight. 

He moves into a gallop, his long, thick limbs moving him closer and closer to the curiosity that’s happening. When he arrives he see Nyra absolutely destroying  one wolf and Zsuzsa taking on her own battle with the other. A rugged frown makes its way to his face at the thought of stranger wolves having to pass directly into their territory to get to Bonesplinter. They could be fucking spies. 

Well, they’d end up dead if they didn’t plead their innocence. So he’d bounce behind his Harbinger and take his place at Zsuzsa’s side to aid her with the seemingly bigger of the two. He knew Nyra could handle her own on the small female. He didn’t want this male getting the better of the midnight Saint just in case. He hasn’t seen her fight after all, she could be godly or absolute shit, he has yet to find out. 

Yet when he goes in for his bite he’s hard able to grab on. The tussle with the dark pelaged female puts him just out of Donovan’s reach and he’s growling when he snaps his jaws at the males flank only to snatch out a tuft of agouti fur.