Sequoia Coast and between offering and banquet, we devoured the gods

The ghost did not cow to her in the way he had when he had worked beneath her for the Seageda wolves. He drew his gaze upward and nodded his head slowly, only as a formal greeting so that the dark woman would know that he had only ever been a mercenary for her wolves; it was all that he would ever be. The light that shimmered in the dark of her eyes found him, and he saw that it had not changed much from the harshness that it had held once before. Age had made him ragged and weary, but he still stood as a looming spectral before her.

“It was,” he answered shortly, flicking his tongue across the greyed hairs of his muzzle. The Grimnismal wolf then canted his head to the side and frowned. “They don’t listen much, your lot,” he then added with a slight curl to the darkness of his lips. “Tried to avoid the fight. No accounting for kids these days.” It was true that he had only wanted to avoid conflict between the Drageda wolves and the familial pack that he had found a home within. Grimnismal was smaller in size than he imagined the dark Heda’s pack would have been and he knew that Caiaphas would not have been pleased with casualties of her children.