Murder Boat

His long-legged gait moved with a confident familiarity through the battlefield, shadowed from far overhead by the pair of owls that accompanied him most places. It was evening, the setting sun spilling blood red rays over a land that already smelled faintly of old blood spilled. It lent a grim sort of beauty to an otherwise muddy plain, though soon enough it would run riot with wildflowers. Chaos had grown up right next door to the field, and even in the years between when he had lived in the maw he had still visited regularly. It was as familiar to him as the knolls he had spent his puphood in, his mother had made sure of that even in the years Valentine was gone, and he hadn't failed to keep in shape since her death.

Tonight he ambled through the battlefield without looking for anything in particular. He would welcome the possibility of new members, but he would equally relish a spar to whet his skills with. Either way, simply wandering the field hoping for something of interest to appear would be relaxing but a waste of time, so he paused in his wandering to tilt his head back and loose a howl, announcing his presence.