Raven's Watch illuktuk

He be talking in a language they can both understand!

Talking about recuirtment. Stjornuati scoffed, a forceful push of air sweeping through his nostrils as his tail held high and stiff behind him. There was talk of recruitment, and there was this, whatever this was. Valmua must have thought Stjornuati the same sort of fool that would have drooled after her fire-branded hide had they not been related; he was not, and he had never been. A woman's pika had never swayed the man into stupidity, even during the throes of their season, a rare separation made between dick and brain.

A single step forward was taken, a silent threat that was the last he would make. Chanel was, of course, not the issue here; rather the forming of their arrangements behind he and Solpallur's backs the true issue, for he had heard that as well. His snarl broke momentarily, long enough to allow him to demand an answer that would serve as their one and only chance for truth, for whatever Valmua thought of him, he was no pushover. What arrangements have you made? Why do you seek women to whore out?

And it was then, that the answer dawned on him, rising in his mind like the sun rose from the horizon. A little at first, though it gathered more and more formation the longer their silence lapsed. A growl once more left him, his command barking loudly through the forest.

Answer!