Lion Head Mesa silence is the unbearable repartee

almost prophetically was khusobek easily grabbed, easily caught, twisted; his shoulder thudded to the dirt and he called off the spar with a shout.
"big man! large man! we have a queen and you need a name," the mazoi shot cheerily at the bearwolf, dust sliding from his back as he thrust out his paw in a gesture of companionship.