His children were yearlings now. Old enough to make their own decisions, choose their own paths. Sarka had already gone off on her own. He’d shadowed her from well behind, and seen her go into Regium, the pack ruled by one of the friendlier Armadas. He hoped she would find happiness there. He hoped she would find that inner strength he knew lay at her core. Time had passed, and still no sign of Azalea had arrived. A part of him held onto the hope that she would indeed return, but it seemed that… for once, his hopeful light would fail. He padded through the willows, mossy greens scanning the snow laden ground and the early spring crocuses beginning to just barely peek out of the snow in places. Spring wasn’t far away. He was reaching his prime; a strong, capable hunter; and he hoped to pass on the knowledge to his sons. He slowed as Raziels scent crossed under his nose, and his path altered smoothly, falling into line with the trail. He stopped as soon as the scent tasted only seconds old and lifted his head. “Raziel? Would you like a lesson in hunting today?” For now, it was the best he could offer. Fighting would come later, with help from Alsander and Surreal. They were more familiar with close quarter face to face fighting, while he was familiar with the assassins swift lightning strikes from behind; in and out with a slash of the teeth to the achilles tendons. And once the target was crippled, the kill would come. As he waited, hoping his son would agree, he thought back to those months of training, marvelling at how swiftly one would learn under threat of death. The thought was shaken away with a shudder. He never wanted to return to the horror that was his old life. Never again.

Sarak's voice roused him from his thoughts, and he lifted his head from where he had been nosing a root near a bush. He'd been so lost in his own mind, that he hadn't heard his father approach. Raziel was nearly a yearling now, and with their loner lifestyle- he hadn' t had much instruction. Really, he spent most of his time exploring the area around where their family had chosen to reside. Raziel backed out of the brush, and turned his head towards Sarak, a slightly hopeful look on his face. A hunting lesson could be fun, but he wasn't sure if he'd be any good at it. Would he disappoint his father? Father... it felt like a strange word for the adult wolf that he scarcely knew. He was willing to give the man a chance, which he felt was more than his brothers had been doing. Sarka had vanished and Raziel wasn't really sure where she ended up. "Sure!" Raziel said, his words accompanied with a slight wag of his tail. He hoped he sounded eager at least, though nerves fluttered in his stomach. He walked towards Sarak, and paused, to wait for his father to give him instruction. "What are we hunting?" He asked, his voice firm. He would try not to let his unceartinty show. Sarak was trying- and he was all the family that Raziel had left these days. Sarka was gone. Azael was no where to be seen. His mother had vanished. Speech

gracias ini advance for patience, as i get used to his character.