Stefan bowed his shaggy hear, the massive dire wolf respectful of the dancing island spirit. The music sang to his soul, the mark of Luna's Glory that burned into him. He wanted to join with it, but he repressed the urge. For a start, the Spirit might take offence.
And for another thing, he wasn't entirely sure victory was assured yet.
<<I will sing of you, also,>> the Storm Lord promised. <<And of the cleansing of this Tur.>>