King and the Spirits

as the man stepped forward, it took all of Pnuma's willpower not to back away. He saw the man's face soften and he knew he had good intentions, but there was an underlying fear that it was all a ploy. He didn't expect the sudden pressure on the back of his neck, a kind, soothing gesture. He instantly melted into the touch, pressing his head against the other's neck and calming down. He forgot how nice it felt to get things off his chest as he normally bottled things up until he opened the cap and spilled everything.

Tyranis' words surprised him. He never saw his connection to the spirits a gift. Well, he once did, but that time had pasted a while ago. He never thought his "gift" would land him a high position in a pack. The spirits rarely told him important information. The only one he listened to regardless of what he was doing was an anxious one, telling him to look behind him or listen closely. Perhaps he was not listening close enough, perhaps they spoke in riddles. Tyranis did say his kin that heard the spirits had to control them and use them. At first, it sounded a bit selfish, to use a spirit for your own gain, but maybe that's why they were here. Perhaps he would have to find another wolf able to speak to spirits and learn from them.

Eventually, the older man pulled back. They continued their walk closer to the surface. Pnuma knew they were getting close as he could smell the fresh air flowing into the cavern. His tail started to wag and excitement showed on his face. Just a few minutes before he had thought he would never see the sky again, now he knew he was just being dramatic. Now that he thought about it, he did find something in the caverns, a friend and some useful information.