Microwave Dinners Don't Cut It

Things were both slightly improving, and looking grim. His mother wasn’t getting any better. If anything, she was getting worse. However, there were a few brighter lights. They had seen a small influx of new members; Jorrvaskr, for one. Activity was seeing the slightest increase. It wasn’t much, but it was something. He’d had yet to check his Cousin Riv’s pack to see if he’d won the challenge.

But he was about to find out the winner in three, two, one… A howl, short and sweet called out for him, and he recognized it as the same voice that had called the challenge. Well, that was his answer, wasn’t it? So he sighed and turned to respond, lengthening his stride to a floating, ground covering trot, head and tail held at his usual casual angle. It wasn’t long before his fathomless sapphire eyes fell upon a familiar female form on the border. Peregrine, wasn’t it?

Well, he could certainly call her gutsy. Though ambitious hadn’t been an impression he’d gotten from the female. More sassy, witty, and dancing on the edge of the line between rude and polite. She’d actually been quite fun to deal with, and the smile that came to his features was genuine. It was unfortunate that she’d chosen to challenge for his cousin’s pack, but he had little doubt that Rivaxorus would bounce back stronger than ever. He was an Adravendi, even if it weren’t by blood.

“Peregrine. How are you today?” She still bore her marks of battle from the fight, and he figured it must have been a nasty scrap for the pack. His haunches lowered easily to the ground, though he sat straight and tall, tail flicking to cover his paws as he surveyed the smaller wolf, head cocked. “Congratulations on your victory.” He’d have to check on Riv and his family; hadn’t he gotten married recently? Did that mean pups? And exciting thought for a wolf who adored children.