The Way of the Fist
Torin felt a sort of thrill of anxiety and joy wash over him when he heard his father's call. He had been meaning to seek out Zell since the meeting and even more so since he'd started picking up on Jewell's anxiety about him and yet... Well it hadn't happen obviously. He wasn't sure how to even remotely begin to express the things he wanted to say. Slowly he rose to his paws, he'd been taking a rare break in between shadowing Frostbite during patrols and checking up on Jewell. But it seemed that was to be for naught. He stretched and yawned, and shook the dirt from his pelt. The scent of his adoptive sister reached his senses and Torin waited silently for her approach. No doubt she wanted to answer Zell's call with him. They padded together, Torin taking a slightly more forwards position as the walked, he was silent, quietly thinking though he'd occasionally glance behind him and give his sister a reassuring smile. When they arrived he quickly identified the only other two wolves to show up thus far. Torin gave his father a silent dip of his head, still unsure exactly where they stood. He then settled himself beside Breasal, nudging his brother playfully and then gestured for Jewell to sit on his other side. |