Sharpen Your Blades, Keep Them Ready

Walk | Talk | Think

He had been on the opposite side of the territory when the call rang out, summoning the pack together. His tan ears perked and a little surge of anticipation shot through his system, and for a moment it stalled him. At their last meeting, Surreal had mentioned addressing the spars at a later point. Was it late enough now? Oh, he was so curious to know what she thought, whether he would be awarded the rank he asked for, even though it made his stomach flip nervously. He both wanted to know and wished to remain clueless, anxious about what she would say and feeding into his doubts the longer it was prolonged. But it was too important to ignore simply because he was nervous, too important to forego attending out of anxiety. He would only feel worse later if he did.

Forcing a deep breath slowly in and out of his lungs, Miksa went forward at an easy lope, covering the ground of the Lake and entering into the Plains. He could see them all gathered already, Surreal seated atop her boulder-perch with the rest of them milling about below within the grass. Out of habit, his yellow eyes picked Varda out of the crowd, her curious brown eye markings singling her from the rest. He slowed as he approached, glancing Surreal's way with a nervous but expectant smile before he padded silently to Varda's side. He smiled more easily at her, distracted by his thoughts, and curled his tail with a anxious twitch against his side as he sat to wait.