and in your head there are no sunsets left
#3
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OoC
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IC

Silence didn't last long -- it never did when you wanted it. Bane felt no irritation when the strangers entered the instinct's range. It wasn't his right. These borders were clearly marked, and his ancestor's own instincts made this important to him. Where he had come from, they marked borders in different ways -- with the corpses of their prisoners of war. It served as a nice warning to the slave-halflings who wore the dead wolves' fur as armour, their skulls as helms. The dark wolf tilted his head as he focused his eyes on the territory called Phoenix Valley. It wasn't Mr Nasphrite who was ambling towards him.


When the silvery female appeared, another at her side, Bane found himself curious, as per usual. He had stopped moving and stood still, watching. She spoke, and he felt something was off. Something he couldn't put his finger on. The instinct was never very precise. "Hello," was his amiable response. "I apologise if I'm interrupting anything, ma'am, I'm just passing by."

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