Shamus
"Why, it is nothing more than a Saffron charm, Integra" Shamus responded, gently taking the pendent, as one would when taking an object of great personal value out of a forgotten vault in a cave lost to memory. The inscriptions on the pendent were indeed legitimate ones he had seen when he was younger, but their meaning had been lost to time. If there was anyone in the group who had happened to be well versed in Old Saffron, they would have seen that the markings said nothing more than "flax" and "barley." Even since before recorded history the Saffron had been keeping careful logs of their seasonal harvests, and much of their sayings and culture were derived from the tradition of keeping field logs. As with all forms of languages, however, it evolves, and the records and characters of yore are now hardly legible to anyone save the wisest of the pack's elders.
"It is a shame, matey, that what some wolves hold dear to them is seen by others as 'conning', just because they cannot see anything tangible" Shamus continued with indignance. "Why, does not even your own pack believe in a god that you cannot see? There is more to life than just what you can see with your mortal eyes. Courting fortune to us Harvest wolf's is just a part of life to us as your deity is to your lives. We would never be able to depend on the coming harvest if there wasn't a little luck involved. I didn't think that my asking of a little favor to be brought down was in any way a scheme to steal from poor Vander over there, matey."
Shamus couldn't quite play Schemeko's game of making faces every time Integra was not watching, as he had more pairs leering eyes on him than just one. He would just have to content himself with keeping up a steady face for now.