Redtail Rise the fall of rome

I shan't waste more breathe, he thinks as his words are met with silence once again. But the sigh that escapes his lips is more contemplative than annoyed as his lazuli gaze plays closer attention to the stranger's movements this time. 

It is a primitive dance. One reminiscent of the field signals once used in battle. He watches the other's body turn towards the herd's edges. They are worlds apart but, finally, a glimmer of understanding emerges in the slow wag of Osgar's tail. 

A spike, then. He nods firmly and moves to worry the elk at a slow lope.

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