now my neck is open wide, begging for a fist around it

Xephyris had taken time to spend alone and finding new purpose since the siege and the fall of Hellstrom. His wounds had healed, a nasty scar left across the top of his muzzle left by the fangs of a formidable opponent. And now, without the direction and guidance of a leader, Xephyris would take hold of his own future. He needed to continue to prepare himself to live the life of a protector. He had no ties yet, nothing to keep him grounded, although he still knew a few wolves that were important enough for him to spill blood keeping safe. He needed to better himself at every opportunity to make sure he did not fail them.

Now he was ready to put himself back into the fray. He'd come to the battlefield in search of an opponent, someone to test himself against. He would keep his experiences at the forefront of his mind and force himself to learn from them, growing sharper from those battles. He paused in his stride, ears perked as he heard a guttural howl, an invitation for bloodshed. Xephyris would answer the call with a howl of his own, letting it be known that he would come.

It was not long before his opponent came into view. The massive, dark-coated hessian might have gone unnoticed in the dead of night if not for the brilliant, silver light of the moon revealing his presence. Angry silver eyes narrowed as Xephyris came to recognize the shape illuminated by the moonlight. This was the man that had taken down Sin, stripping away the pack's hope as their leader was defeated. This would be good. Not a word would be uttered; instead, Xephyris approached the male, squaring himself just 10 ft. directly in front of the man. A low growl rumbled in his throat and hackles prickled at the back of his neck, glaring into the shaded eyes of the strange wolf who wore a skull over his face. He was ready for combat, and wasn't going to waste his energy sharing words.