Ankyra Sound with rejoicing mouth i sing for you and pause

He followed. His pace was only just slower than her own, but he followed and found himself chasing the fleeting image of a woman he had never imagined he would see again. Coming upon her had been close to miraculous, but he found himself wondering if it had been meant to be. The jagged fur along his neck and shoulders was played with delicately by the wind's touch. The ghost moved with assurance and did not falter, though he still remained haggard in appearance and rough around his edges. He was a mercenary and he was built to thrive in difficult times. Somehow, the sharp canary color of her gaze had brought life into his hollow limbs. Kierkegaard was returned to the beast he had once been - renewed by her sight and her sharp words. The need to follow was not questioned by the spectral brute. He simply did as his heart commanded him to do. The scent of the sea did not cause him to falter, but to soar. 

As the two kept to their climb, he allowed his fiery eyes to dart to and fro. The length of his strides carried a peculiar and leonine grace to them. The witch of the water lead, but when the ghost caught sight of unfamiliar figures, he released a low chuff to her and his coat bristled instinctively. The embers of his gaze darted upward as he was met with tumbling rocks and he squinted to catch sight of anything that might prove to be threatening. Caiaphas would certainly see the ginger-coated wolf to her front. He was watchful for anyone else who thought themselves to be slight of paw.