Big Salmon Lake Shinkō

Enough had been said.

The two ate. Shiranui devoured the meat on the otter’s body until his belly felt it might bulge from the weight of it. He had cleaned the animal well, cracking several bones in search of marrow. The sharp pieces of it scored at his gums and his tongue, but the flavor within them was too good to pass up.

When the wolf was content, he made a seat beside the dog. The preacher asked him if he sought a home.

Shiranui regarded the man with a careful stare. He knew that he could say yes or no - that the religious speaker would understand. The white wolf was not certain, though. He had never sought the premise of a home for himself. The idea of a pack still called to his instincts.

The white hunter did not answer, but his tail beat against the ground two times. There was a possibility that he could. Would Bartholomew understand this?