Stone Circle some tides don’t turn

Gunnar arrived—Akavir’s muzzle dipped with a silent greeting that held respect for not just the more elder man, but rank, as he stood upon the edges of his land. “Gunnar,” he offered in a quiet rumble—though little time was required to fill with small talk, for Germanicus was efficient upon his arrival.

Again, another silent greeting with the tip of his muzzle, his eyes fixated upon the silent soldier. “Akashingo. I want to know the way there.”