So we all burn together

Dreams of violent delight were dancing through Pyralis' head when the call floated sweetly into her ears. Golden eyes blinking, she rolled onto her back. Stretching and yawning she got to her feet and shook herself out. Well, well, so young Pyrrhic was calling the fighters together? She was getting on in years but she was still a fierce fighter and even if she could not compete physically with the younger members of the pack, she could more than make up for it with experience and dare she say a bit of wisdom? It was a strange thing growing old. In truth Pyralis had never expected to make it so close to the eve of her eighth birthday.

Ashiel's return from the homeland had brightened her spirits. Amon was alive and well, and whipping the remnants of the homeland into shape, into a fierce empire. She knew one day they'd meet again and the trinket he'd brought her was deeply cherished. She'd set it up on the mantle in her room. A dried up potoo, perfectly preserved to stand vigil on her mantle pieces, and of course the bladed leather bracers. She debating about wearing them but decided against it for now. She still needed to make a few adjustments and felt better doing some of her own training with them first before engaging the younger members of the pack.

Pyralis glanced out the window. She'd delayed long enough. Turning her focus back to the task at hand she went down to the courtyard to answer the call of her great-nephew. She strode into the gathering as Alkali soared through the sky above her. "You look more grown each day I see you Pyrrhic."