Blackfeather Woods Kynigós

Outnumbered to the white wolf meant an unfair situation. Had she not been the one who entered another’s terrain? Arsenio mulled this in his mind like a tall glass of wine, swirling the thoughts around until he was satisfied with the content. The woman did not strike him as the type of wolf to weigh her actions. He had only met her, but her responses to him had been sharp and arrived with the flash of her fangs.

Ah, a pack.

Arsenio nodded his head in understanding, as though he could comprehend the idea of a group banding together to serve each other. It was different for the Greek wolf. I am misthofóros, Arsenio stated to her with a shrug of his shoulders. When he recalled that she would not understand Greek, he frowned.

Mercenary. I fight for pay. I fight for whoever wishes to hire my fangs.