Lone Star Mountain graustufen

continuing forward with a tentative stride, stigmata made way until the sheer-faced ridge blocking his view gave way to a gradual slope upon which the rams warred. they were such thick-bodied creatures, he could often do nothing but marvel at their power - how agilely they took to the mountainside - and then feel retrospectively blessed to be part of a specie capable of felling such forceful beasts with skill and coordination.

the warhound turned sharply to the other male as he bid for his attention, then took to the note of suggestion like a well-trained musician capable of picking up new composition on the fly. he assumed a neutral stance - head and ears up, tail slack against his hocks - and circled about to take up a silent vigil near the ashsmoke stray's shoulder. up close, stigmata found this brawn-blessed male to be every bit his equal, if not more so - even despite the recent scarring - and it made the tactician careful in the way he presented himself as a hunting mate only; and nothing to be construed as more challenging.

if he could solicit this wolf's backing, if only for a short time, then there was a high probability he would eat more than decently; in that same amount of time.