The wolf looks long and hard at Luthiel. "The Ritual must only be conducted when one of my brethren receives the Command of our Master through a Dream. To simply... perform the Ritual, without His Command... it would be blasphemy against our Master. We must trust in His judgment."
Just then, a very old looking wolf is noticed moving slowly across the clearing to the great rock in the center. Its hair is far greyer than any of the other wolves, though it's black stripes and splotches cover almost its entire coat of fur, and are of a deep, pitch black color. It moves toward the lead wolf and in a hoarse, whisperlike growl, says something in its ear, then moves away, back the way it came.
The lead wolf turns back to Luthiel and stares at him for a long, awkward moment. Finally, it speaks once more. "Gar the Dreamer has just woken from a Dream, sent by our Master. It appears that your request is not blasphemous at all. Perhaps... you understand more of our Master than I give you two-footers credit for. Tonight there will be a feast, as depicted in the Dream, and a fire." The wolf looks to the sky and licks its lips several times before continuing. "It is clear that there will be no storm tonight, and thus no lightning. And the Dream did not show our Master granting us such a display of the awesome power of Nature. We, as creatures of Nature, cannot make fire, so our Master must want you and the other two-footers to build the fire. I cannot fathom why He would desire Untouched two-footers to take part in His Ritual, but I trust in His judgment. Enough discussion. I have spoken with you for far longer than I have ever spoken with any creature other than our Master, and my voice grows thin. You have the Command of our Master, now you must do His bidding. Build a great bonfire in this clearing. Go." With that, the wolf steps forward and, with its jaws, takes the wooden statue from Luthiel and retreats into the crevice, where Malen can see it bury the statue. It comes right back out and sits in the same spot as before, eyes closed and muzzle pointed upwards at the sky. Every now and then it licks its lips.
