Haunted Wood They say flowers can open new paths

The pale wolf pulled back, blinking at the dog while thoughts poured through his mind. Shiranui knew that the nature of the wolf was to find others, to build a pack and a home. He was no different from his kin in this regard. The white wanderer had spent a great deal of his life on his own. He had been made the hero of a small number of stories, all with a different name.

Shiranui nodded his head.

He would travel with the preacher for as long as it suited him. If the dog would have him. Shiranui knew that he was not a man who offered a great deal. He could hunt. He could fight. The sharpness of his tooth had been tested many times before.

Wolves were only strongest when they were in a pack.