Moonspear ausländer

she spoke firmly, and mahler had no doubt that he would be put to the sword did he misstep or bear threat to her children. yet she was correct — he was not that sort, and so he was not rankled by her insinuation, but buoyed by the knowledge that she did not see him as the kind of monster who might do such.
"i vill obey," the general grunted, sweeping to the queen's side with a grateful dip of his muzzle. he had gained entry, it seemed, and he would not abuse this privilege. "ve are a military pack, comprised of ghosts  — the unproven — and the fierce who guard all of the sunspire. ve hunt, ve train, our children carry out tasks as soon as they are able. every vone of us contributes to the vell-being of all."
"my kill-brother, stigmata, recently passed. too soon," mahler added, a shadow of pain flitting across his impassive expression, "and i seek to keep his vision alive." hypocrisy, he supposed; a lie at worst, for in his heart did the shadowpriest not believe one pack could seek to hold all the mountains.
there were other ways, he supposed.
"vhat of moonspear?"  mahler murmured, turning the conversation back to hydra, away from unpleasant twinges of pain around the subject of stigmata. "a queen surely has an impressive reign, and vone she has earned."