Dance Of Warriors [AW]

His jaws parted in a grin at his Uncle’s words and he nodded. "An-. Ba chóir go mbeadh troid maith, tá súil agam." He answered comfortably in the family tongue, heavily furred tail waving above his hips before he stilled at the sounds of approach. His ears perked forward, listening. The steps were large, though not as large as his own were. Soon enough, the monochrome form of another wolf came into clear focus through the rain, and as his fathomless sapphire eyes took in the yearling’s markings, his tail beat a quick wag through the air before settling at a level with his spine.

The kid looked remarkably like Creed, with how his black markings lined his thighs and back, but he remained silent until the yearling haltingly introduced himself as Kharnage, though no last name was given, and admitted that he’d never sparred before. Regulus’s jaws pulled into an easy smile as he switched from the family tongue to common.. “That’s alright. My first time here, I got a tiger. Luckily for me, he wasn’t a bad guy and didn’t try to continue the fight once I submitted. But I have some marks to remember him by. The Crimson male grinned and proffered his left shoulder bearing the four visible claw mark scars before settling his paw back into place and dipping his head respectfully as he introduced himself.

"I’m Regulus Anatolii Adravendi, Archangel – or alpha – of a pack called Celestial in the west. Have you been taught how to fight in general, or do you mean you’ve just never sparred against another wolf in earnest?”

It was a valid query, one whose answer would dictate the path of the proceedings. If this fellow had never been taught how to fight, Regulus had no trouble giving him a lesson. The young needed to know how to defend themselves. Upwind of the boy as he was, he hadn’t yet caught his scent, so he was under the assumption that this boy was a loner at least. Old enough to venture into the world, even if some mothers’ hearts may disagree.