Moonspear long in tooth and soul

"A thick band?"

He had half-expected to hear about how the stone separated from itself from the get go, but the conversation turned to a more interesting note than what the very earth threatened to do beneath their moving feet.

And the pass was gone, a pity perhaps, but Dirge couldn't recall the last time he had made use of it. There were more ways into the hinterlands than a scant trail that wove wildly between sawtooth stones. His brow furrowed in thought as he discarded that last bit, and his head shook as he grappled with the concept.

It was strange, and yet...

"Around his neck," he murmured, abruptly absent.

There was a recognition that stuck with him, that slowed his steps just a touch. The fact he was being vague did not elude him as much as the memory did—he realized Arcturus wouldn't have remembered, assuming he had been a thought at all at the time. Another dismissal, this time vocal and nested in his mouth. The memory was hazy, an eon ago if there had ever been one with all that had happened since.

"It's funny that you mention that, I remember a time when there was a wolf here with the same thing—what did he look like?"