Lion Head Mesa or the house burns down

the dreadfather watches as he and deathbringer are greeted swiftly by two women, one of whom launches right into introductions: of the pack and herself; followed soon a man and another woman. four comes to greet two.

though these odds unsettle ingram, he does not let it cow him. nor does he let the fact that he dislikes being outnumbered show upon his scarred visage. as ever, he is like carved basalt. unmoving and unmoved.

i am the dreadfather and this is deathbringer, he finds some sort of twisted, dark delight in using these names while introducing them. we hail from basilica which has laid claim upon the plateau. he gestures in it's general direction with his muzzle. it is no secret, now. their presence grows as he hopes their reputation will.

we are neighbors but not so close as to fear an infringement upon hunting grounds, at least, ingram would hope that neither basilica nor this akashingo as they called it, would travel so far for food. still, to introduce ourselves and open diplomatic dialogue seemed like the neighborly thing to do.