Arrow Lake mourntart

though he did not verbally respond, he reacted to the answer with a sly expression and a heartier wag. good, he snorted proudly, lifting his chin and panting as a surge of excitement pulsed through the tactician. "i am stigmata," he declared. "you are ours. we are yours. there need be little else." the wolf turned in the direction he'd originally been going and indicated with a toss of his skull for thorn to fall instep at his side. "we have a stag to fell."