Hoshor Plains I Wear My Sins On My Sleeves

He listens intently and when he looks over, the black and grey wolves seems to have become more red-yellow in the disappearing sun. The sound of the others laugh makes his own grin widen. 

Then he becomes more serious as the other compliments him. Donovan can only shake his head. “I’m somewhat honorable, friend. I want to give others a purpose, yet sometimes the path following will be bathed in blood.” He hums this mysteriously. “I am a man of my word, I will not lie. I will carry on my fathers ways and make the Saints and everyone in it strong and feared if one cannot be loved.” His eyes flick back to the reverend. “I hope this does not bother you.” He doesn’t say the words as a threat, only a casual comment.

As they speak they continue to walk. The grass seems to go on forever, but there is signs of a river far ahead.