Silvertip Mountain Poslání

he does not expect the voice!
his ears lift and broad head turns. and there, descending the slope with more haste than grace, comes a man much smaller than he. stout, with a chest like a barrel and eyes bright with purpose. small, but no less herculean! what a mighty beast he was. his words ring formal and pleasant. damn the gods for still plaguing raedwulf with this inability to understand. at least, fully.
raedwulf comes forwards, though does keep a measurable, respectful distance.
frēond? he tests first, with a jovial tongue. then he taps his own chest with a wide paw. rǣdwulf! iċ eom seaxe.