Ankyra Sound born to serve

Fine by me!

Spyro's tail wagged swayed behind him at her praise, a pleasant (and perhaps a bit dumb) smile resting on his lips. She spoke in another tongue, mentioning him by name, and he furrowed his brow, but it seemed she needed nothing from him. Assuming she had merely been talking to herself, Spyridon waited patiently as his mother-sister called for the leader. A howl was devoid of language, carrying feelings rather that words, so he could hear what she intended even if she had spoken French or German.

She spoke again, and although some deep-down impulse him to ask for her name, he did not, having long ago been taught to suppress such urges. The mother-sister turned and fled, and he darted after her, keeping pace behind her as she led the way to the leader he was intended to be a gift for. He could only hope that he would live up to her expectations. But perhaps he was unexpected. The details of his departure had not been given to him, nor had he ever asked.