Bones of our Ancestors

Cas' tail and head were at a distinctly jaunty angle as she bounced along behind Valen and her son, Evangeline trotting intensely at her side. War! The word seemed to ring beneath every pawstep as the pack surged forth from Imperium toward Abaven. War! War! A manic grin of excitement stretched across her muzzle. She'd felt this way when they'd attacked Lydovne, only to be disappointed when Dione had let the pack fall without so much as a whimper. Surely, surely Sin would not take the coward's way out like that midgety green traitor had. Surely Imperium would get their war.

She liked war.

The pack crossed Abaven's border and stopped among the Abaven members, and Cas' mismatched eyes glinted excitedly. That wasn't to say she missed the snide glance Vana sent around, or her look to Angelus, and Cas sent her a look and nudged her meaningfully. "Don't even think about ruining this, Evangeline Imperialis," she hissed at her daughter. "You will not be causing a ruckus with Abaven when we are this close to getting a good war. Behave. Save it for Hellstrom."