The Sentinels to hate my enemies

And so it seemed Wintersbane was content with his position.

Tahoe’s eyes focus ahead on the herd for a moment. Maybe that’ll change. He responded nonchalantly, glancing back at the man once again. McBride knew satisfaction was only temporary—perhaps Wintersbane would grow bored and desire for more. The man could mold his future however he pleased, all he needed was direction.

He didn’t wish to engage in some meaningless small-talk, the answers Wintersbane provided would suffice. I’ll let’cha go for now. He adds in a half-mumble. He waits for acknowledgement from the man, dips his head, then saunters back in the direction from which he came.