Mechanically, this female’s head pivoted on an axis. Grimoire’s head turned to regard her with one eye, and then she shifted her gaze to explore the female in her other. Robotic grace was a strange mobility to witness. The beginning was sharp, the end of it sudden and definite. The few words that the female shared sank into Grimoire’s mind like a stone to the bottom of a lake. Heavy, defined, and settled upon many others. Raum, for instance, was of a similar mold. Raum was immature, but her words similarly broken. Red here had been in isolation long enough to maintain the speech patterns of pups. Grimoire could tell from the sharpness of her words and the clarity of her gaze, however, that this wolf was not as naive as puppies.

Her command gave insight to her background. Her parents had taught her a dominant nature, which suited Grimoire. Such wolves were her reason for living. They caused her chest to squirm with anticipation and questions. What type of dominance did they exert? Who could offend them? Who would they attack? Who would they murder? The list of questions only grew the more time Grimoire spent with these types. The generalized questions became more refined to the individual, and eventually, she would know exactly how they ticked.

Grimoire’s pink eyes glittered with pleasure to answer the companion who allowed her to explore the sense she had,

”I suspect our heritage is similar. I’d like to test it.”

How? Well.. there was a single way to truly know which path this female followed. Grimoire needed to take them on a hunt and carry out the sacred test of a wolf’s worthiness of this world. In fact, she expected this extravaganza to give her two worthy subjects. However, because of her eagerness for success, the events might turn into a blood bath; she tended to get carried away on the thrill of chasing things.