Artur strode through the odd debris field, stopping occasionally to nose at or paw at an item that caught his attention. He wasnt a crafter and had no interest in crafting, but he could see the value of armor and weapons. If nothing else, his brief encounter with the cougar, who had more natural weapons than any wolf, or watching the armadillos that were so numerous in the desert areas surrounding Celestial - Valhalla - showed him that. Nature just needed a bit of help, sometimes. He himself, as stated, had no interest in learning to craft. He had his attention focused on his goals, and taking the time to learn to craft would detract from that. But he was slowly learning the truth in what his mother had believed, that they were only as strong as those they chose to band together with, and grasp what he had never quite been able to understand about her views. That it wasnt just the strength of their jaws and the sharpness of their fangs that made those around you strong, that every group needed a variety of skills to truly be strong. A group of thugs who couldn't support themselves were no better than parasites. They needed more. Look at Valhalla - with only Paladin a trained healer and so often absent from pack life, they had no one they were certain would be around to treat their wounded returning from an unexpected battle. With so few trained hunters, the fighters exhausted themselves bringing in food between their patrols, instead of returning to an already prepared kill. Their sole hunter had to settle for taking smaller game and patrolling beside the warriors, because there weren't enough of any one 'circle' to specialize and no other trained hunters to assist in larger prey, except for warriors already exhausted from their own duties. Trained crafters could provide weapons and armor for fighters and trade goods to trade with stronger packs.

No, Artur wasnt stupid. His eyes had been opened to the knowledge that no matter how strong you were, there was bound to be someone stronger eventually, and if you weren't prepared for that eventuality, you died. As strong and smart as his mother was, she had still fallen to the bear that had eventually led to her death. While he doubted you could trade with a bear, it wasnt the point. The point was that his mother's death had opened his eyes. He understood that eventually he too would pass his prime, and younger faster wolves like he was rapidly becoming now would rise up to take his place. That was the way the world worked. But if he could establish something now, some legacy that could support him as he himself aged, he could ensure that his siblings, his pups, his siblings' pups, would grow up even stronger than they were, and when someone stronger than him sought to tear down what he had created, they would face the gangs of those younger and stronger yet. True Adravendis. There would be respect for the name again, not the contempt that the pretenders earned. They would not have to hide behind their allies and fear alienating them, but rather the quality few they chose to ally themselves with would know it for the honor it was.

It wasnt a dream he could achieve alone, and he was beginning to understand that he would need more than just strong fighters to support that dream. Right now he could count only on his siblings, but as they fell in more and more with Aurielle's ways and integrated more and more into the apathetic grind of the mediocre pack life she offered them, he was wary that they would lose who they were and who they could become, all their potential neatly cut away to make them into perfect little boxes to fit into Aurielle's wall. He needed to find others that he could trust. Never any of the pretenders, though. If those of a false line wanted to join him they would renounce their false claim to his family's name and legacy, or not be welcome.

Je stopped again and carefully prodded a piece of metal that stuck up from a pile of junk. Maybe he could pay someone to craft him armor and weapons. He had reached his full height now, though he still needed to fill out, so anything he had made should only need minimal adjustment to continue to fit as he came into his adult build. Yes, he could trade for those... but he needed to gain the loyalty of his own wolves if he wanted to truly bring his dreams to fruition. Young wolves, like him, who were dissatisfied with the way the previous generation chose to use their power. Wolves he could nurture to reach their full potential and make a legacy for themselves their elders kept from them. He needed to be careful as he approached his siblings, lest Aurielle learn too soon his intentions. No, that wouldnt do at all.

Eurus had healed up from the tournament, both physically and with his pride. Lirim had been quiet and now that his father was fully retired it left him to spending more time relaxing. Eurus had found himself bored so he had began to wander. He had stuck close to the borders of the pack and had just recently worked up to heading out further. He was finding how hot and unpleasant the west was outside of Lirim and had to be careful how much he traveled during the day. Today had been mild so he found himself going further, into a new territory to explore after he got through the gorge that is. The boy was curious of what else lay outside of Lirim and the trip his father took him on had fueled it more then his small attempts at sneaking out. Eurus was confident, yet cautious as he strolled into the new territory. After that cougar attacked his father within pack land he was more careful about keeping an eye out on his surroundings. He didn't want to be caught off guard by a predator that may be lurking nearby. He wanted to be prepared in case he needed to defend himself. As he got deeper into the territory he began to find some abnormal things littering the ground. He got to the point that he had to be careful where he was stepping. Then something caught his attention making him stop for a moment to get a better look. Up ahead of him was a figure prodding some of the junk that was littering the ground. As he focused on the figure he realized he recognized the pale coated male. "Hey!" he called out. "I know you!" It wasn't meant to be a rude statement, but just to fully get the attention of the other male, the one he had sparred with at the tournament. "Speech"

Artur was quick to glance up when someone called out, and met the other young males eyes with mutual recognition. "The boy from the tournament," he said slowly, his gaze running over the frost-marked yearling evaluatingly. "You fought well." It wasnt said as flattery, but rather in a flatly neutral tone of observation. It was true. His fight with this boy, barely younger and nearly his size, had pushed him harder than any fight he had before. While Artur had ultimately been the victor it didnt dim8n8sh the achievement. Now all these months later the boy stood as tall as he did and could do as few others did and look him straight in the eye, gray eyes to blue. It gave him a moment's pause as he watched the younger yearling measuringly.