The night directly after the flood was a hard one. He was awake all through that night, and the next day, and much of the next night. At last, when he couldn’t keep himself away a moment later, he found himself a dark and empty corner to collapse in. Knowing Bear would keep any wolves away. He had regressed. He wasn’t the safest wolf to be around when he slept.

Tired as he was, he was asleep the moment his eyes slid closed. As expected, his dreams were not welcoming things. He was back, many, many years in the past. Helping Deathbelle flee from the crumbling empire. They were cornered, as had happened to him during that time. But when he was cut down, he looked up at his assailant, and Dread’s eyes looked down at him. "I'm not turning my back on my whole family. Just on you."

The dream shifted, and he was walking. There was blood on his coat, and his old bones creaked. A mist was kicking up in the cold air, and he turned one way, and then another. Looking through the deep fog. He felt eyes on him, but he couldn’t penetrate the deep mist.

"Speech"

My, the visitors just kept pouring in, didn't they? There was always a feeling, as though more than one soul was packed into a small box. Granted, the mountain realm was vast, but the ashen woman could sense the presence of another. She made her way down well memorized paths, the grass worn down to dirt and stone. This was her world and she was it's master and guardian. The swirling mist and snow of a Romanian winter filled the air. The base of the mountain was covered in a thick blanket of snow, heavy winds whipping it into a frenzy. The maned woman willed the winds to still and, moments later, the mist and snow dissipated. As the white veil fell away, the giant fae's burning sulfur eye fell upon a face that she knew. Dark ears tipped forward, noting his haggard appearance. One could look as they wished in the dream realm, so she imagined something was deeply troubling the man. "Sirius," the fae's gravelly voice greeted him. She waited for him to close the distance between them. "Speech"

As he watched, the cloudiness around him fell away. Clearing into a beautiful mountainscape. But it wasn’t the area that caught his attention, but a wolf. A familiar wolf. His eyes narrowed, surprise catching him. Resin did not often frequent his nightmares, and when she did they involved Hallows cellars and a woman fallen into craze. This… this was something else. She looked at him with sanity, and her voice was a greeting, though she didn’t move.

He hesitated, before approaching. Stepping towards the familiar wolf. The only that that had ever come close to feeling like a guardian to him. He could not recall his parents' faces, they were long ago taken by history.

“Resin…”

He said, as he reached her.

“What are you doing here?”

he reached out to cup her face, knowing he was dreaming. She wasn’t real, a figment of his imagination, and nothing more.

“We should go, they’re coming”

He warned her.

"Speech"

Disbelief flashed on the man's face and then he was moving towards her. One big paw moved up to cup her cheek, then his former nightmare took hold of his mind once more. As he warned her, Resin reached out, catching his paw to still him. "Nothing will harm you here, Sirius. This is my world. My home." As if to prove this, the winter snows melted, giving way to a peaceful, fragrant spring. Birds sang and the sun above warmed their dark coats. The maned fae reached towards him once more, a black-toed paw brushing at the blood upon his coat. It crumbled away like dust, drifting off into the spring breeze. "Tell me why you're here, Sirius. What's happened in your world?" It had to be something troubling indeed for him to have sought her out in his dreams. "Speech"

He was surprised at how solid and warm her paw felt as she reached out and caught his before he could lower it. It was a different sensation to the cold, the pain, that he was accustomed to in these nightmares. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He supposed he couldn’t fault the lull from the running, the fear. He stilled beneath her paw, his eyes on her solo one.

He watched in silence as her brush pushed away the blood from his coat. The wound vanished just as easily. He narrowed his eyes, frowning at Resin. The last time her presence had felt so… there had been during Samhain. He wasn’t sure what he believed in, but it was hard to deny her regardless.

“Where to begin?”

He said, a small, wry smile flicked across his muzzle and vanished again.

“Dread has chosen the Pirates over his own. No, not entirely true. Over me. But most pressing? The pack has flooded. It swept through the Col, Resin. The firepit is gone. Our winter supplies. We have injured, and so little to feed them.”

"Speech"

Never one to stand still, Resin motioned for Sirius to walk with her. She led him around the lake and towards the foot of the mountain. Once there, they would climb upward on well worn paths. As they walked, he spoke, telling her of his troubles. His son had abandoned him for pirates and a flood had obliterated Armada's stores. There were indeed a lot of worries on the man's mind. "Being a parent isn't easy," the woman rumbled. "Give Dread time and space. Hopefully he'll come around. In the meantime, you can have someone else make sure that he's safe." She knew all too well about having a child hate you. Oxx had been proof of that. "As for the Armada, all of it can be rebuilt. Wounds can heal." The path curved this way and that, zigzagging up the mountain until they stood on a wide shelf that looked out over the valley below. A gentle spring breeze ruffled their fur and Resin inhaled deeply of the mountain air. "Don't be too proud to ask your allies for support, Sirius. There are many wolves in the world that would offer you aid if you simply asked." "Speech"

The Warlord walked with her, the last remnants of his nightmare washed away. He wanted to believe this was real, but mostly he was just happy for the respite in nightmares. He sighed at the mention of Dread. He wasn’t sure how to repair what was broken, and wished he knew how to reach the boy. But she was right, he needed space. That much was clear, and why the Warlord had released him from the pack.

“And many others that would take advantage of it. The pirates, Insomnia” he murmured softly. If the Pirates - now Raiders - knew of what had befallen the Armada, they likely would throw a feast. “But Art, and Venom. I just don’t want to be a burden on their resources. Art at least, his pack has come out of Winter.”

"Speech"

Sirius worried as Sirius was prone to do. He spoke of others taking advantage of the vulnerable state that the Armada was currently in. "I would be surprised if any dared try," the woman rumbled. The Armada had strong allies and one was one the strongest packs in the land, so very few should be willing to test the waters. Unless they had a deathwish, that was. Resin seated herself on the stone shelf, looking out over the valley below. "Everything will work out as it should," she assured the man. "The Armada is strong. It's allies are strong. When you admit defeat is when you begin to lose," the older wolf informed him. "You are the face of the Armada and it is to you that your wolves look. It's up to you to show them the face of defeat or to show them the face of hope." It sounded simple, and in a way, it was. Sirius could feel however he wished behind closed doors, but to his people, he needed to be confident. He needed to assure them that everything would be okay. Kind of how Resin was doing to him right now. "Speech"