A small flower grows

The Warlord was making his rounds through the allies of the Armada. Considering he had started this venture intending to have none, it still surprised him to realise that there were packs out there he considered important enough to know and build relations with. Ashen had always been a given of course, but the Hallows had started out being led by one of his own wolves, and now its successor was his godson. Abaven, and Theory had found a way into his heart, and now there was Habori. Led by a wolf whose family was integrated so thoroughly into his own.

He intended to build upon those relations, though the Warlord was no diplomat. He found himself at her borders regardless, his proposal bouncing through his thoughts as he considered it from every angle. He stopped a polite distance away, and raised his head to howl for Recluse.

"Sirius Fatalis"