Oh my soul

Long moments seemed to stretch into infinity as he waited to see if his call would produce results. He wouldn't have minded if it had not - but the sound of pawsteps swung his attention to an approaching wolf. Blue eyes widened in surprise at the female who stood before him. A shade of red he'd only ever seen on his brother, and taller than he and Regulus both, with a strange fringe of hair like the mane of a young lion upon her head. Scars littered the wolf's body, and a strange collar held the talons of some great bird at her throat. She gave the overall impression of something alien, something unsettlingly supernatural, and Tor nearly took a step back despite himself. Her scent was of Abaven, though, and familiar despite the bad memories the pack-scent itself dredged up. Abaven was generally well-regarded as being honest folk, but Tornach still could not think of them as anything but the wolves who had begun the war that had destroyed Enigma's family.

He sighed out a breath into the heavy, humid air, a resigned sigh. He'd asked for a fight, he could hardly take exception to the sort of wolf to show up. He inclined his head courteously to her, though he held back from responding to her troubling words about battle, as if battle could ever be anything glorious. "I am Tornach Adravendi," he said simply, and settled himself into a warrior's stance. But he hesitated to attack - could not bring himself to charge into battle though he had begun this by calling. It simply was not in his nature. He sighed again, purely internally, and hesitantly put forth, "Perhaps you would begin? You seem far more... experienced, than I."


OOC: Sorry, I couldn't finagle Tor's character into attacking first.