The Heartwood And will dead lips to speak?

It was with precise steps Dreven walked through the new domain. His loyalties lay with one and only one for as long as he felt fit to follow. Though, he couldn't stop the curiosity to learn the boundaries as he walked.

A strange chanting piqued his interest and with broad body, russet paws and red eyes he searched. Gazed. Always searching. Until his gaze fell upon a tiny thing. Bathed in blood of prey, still as a statue.

He was not unused to sacrifice, yhe man who had offered his seed to bear Dreven, the man gave him a name like his mother. He had often sacrificed younglings and elderly or those he felt too, for the gods and goddesses the queen felt fit to follow that day.

He didn't move, simply stared. This was somwtimes a sacred thing and he didnt wish to upset a god. Though it was clear at this point they hated him.