Hoshor Plains just carry this gun, you'll even get paid

Ryzhov couldn’t help the sly smirk on his features, the question falling almost honey-like from his tongue for a moment. “Is that so? Have other wolves who have met you simply been blind or have you simply never pushed yourself to try something new?” He asked with a tip of his head to the side. “Everyone is an amateur at something.” He was an amateur at things as well, even if he leaned on his specialties he was not daft enough to believe himself a god, immortal from incompetency in something.
 
He held himself different, causing a flash of intrigue but nothing more, and certainly nothing to act on. A God? Now that sounded like a pompous man. “Tell me… what qualifies this man as a God? Does he raise the sun every morn, and cause it’s set every night? Or is it simply a title he’s placed upon himself with a crown and a kingdom?” Virion had earned his loyalty through action, not through false claims of being a deity… and so Ryzhov pried further.
 
Still, he spoke of the benefits that he saw. He is treated well and respected. Ryzhov could respect that even if he did not understand what comfort had to do with anything. There was a glimmer in his eyes at the question of his own loyalty. “A decorated war hero by the name of Virion Callas.” He stated, his chest puffing slightly from the pride that carried in his voice. “My best friend and commander. He fights tooth and claw in what he believes in.” It was the similar beliefs, the fierceness in battle, and the cunning mind that he appreciated.