The Sentinels barren summits

the man was of a few words, slavo saw then - but also knew a single sound could hold much value. he decided that for the afternoon, his interest'ill be in procuring a chuckle or bashful wag of the tail from the aged wolf.

the komondor set his head onto his paws, eyes still on the senior. 

"hm, aend vould yeu speak moer of this clan of yeours, mischr m'rman?" his tail beat evenly against the ground. "didju rise fram th' palace of sam sea-king deep be-low? come to th' sh'res chu grace th' land-dwellers witch yeour siren songs?"

his eyes glimmered with good humour.