Buffa-Low

Wendigo joined the drive, running easily and raising his thunderous voice to theirs. Despite his usual carefree playfulness, there was a part of Wendigo 's brain that was constantly keeping track of his wolves - and not-wolves - as they moved through the herd. Even those that weren't his were, temporarily, his-ish and Wendigo's old deep dragon-brain kept obsessive possessive track of his hoard even now. So when the old bull Morrow was chasing went down on his knees, Wendi was right there to grab the beast's big bovine nose and use the combination of his weight and the bison's momentum to drag the heavy head to the side, the bison's own weight slamming it over heavily onto its shoulder.