This was no one that he knew, but the ebony-furred man obviously knew him by name, at the very least. Vigilante did not know how much he actually knew. As no one here had ever pulled a weapon on him before, the dog mutt assumed he knew of his past and not of his present. Certainly this wolf was not of Kaktowik, for his pack had been nearly entirely composed of dog mixes. The rare wolf would live among them, but this was not one of those, at least from his time in the pack. He was a complete stranger to the King.
No answer came to his formal request, raising the hairs along the dense-furred neck of the dog King. Snow-tipped muzzle was set in a thin line, deep jade eyes watching for the tiniest signs of movement. The bow was leveled, and still nothing was spoken from the stranger. Vigilante growled, a deep, throaty rumble. It was hardly a moment's decision before he launched himself at the stranger, heavy muscular body meant to knock him to the ground and hold him there.
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