Bearclaw Valley grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire

Another shriek as he landed—out of reach and for the obvious discomfort in the wolf’s face—with questions laced in the call. 

“Where did you go, why did you leave? Why are you here? Did you find what you were looking for? 

Yet, he did not speak the common tongue of the wolves, and could only stare curiously, head cocked as gold eyes watched Sad-wolf.

Waiting.

Wondering.

Feathers ruffled as he shifted, talons scraped against stone. Tawodi settled himself to hear any sort of explanation, whatever Sad-wolf wanted to give. 

If he chose.