Some Ancient Call That I've Answered Before

Pyrrhic was scouting out the old lands to see if they were safe enough for the pack to return. With the wall of ash looming overhead the day they'd left it had been hard to gauge how bad the territory would get in the coming days so it had seemed wise to head west. Now, months later, it was time to check out the state of their lands. Pyrrhic wasn't going to move the pack back until he was sure it was safe. Gods though they may have been, the mortal shells they'd been given to walk this plane weren't made to withstand the fallout from a volcano. That had been made clear to him the day he'd lost his father.

Benkos had accompanied him on his journey back to the packlands and the mandrill had taken to checking out the halls of the castle ahead of him. Suddenly the mandrill barked; the guttural sound causing Pyrrhic's hackles to rise as he snapped out of his reverie.

Once beside Benkos it was clear what had caught the mandrill's attention. A wolfish shape was heading towards them through the rain. Normally such a bold intruder would immediately provoke a fight, but given that the land had been abandoned in everything except name as the pack fled the ash clouds Pyrrhic could forgive the trespasser transgressions. It was likely he thought the place abandoned.

With a wordless jerk of his head, Pyrrhic brusquely invited the stranger into the castle hall and out of the rain.