stronger than yesterday

Gimli was bored more often than not, and as he lied flat on his back beneath a tree, a paw in the air as he swiped at the leaves that fell from the breeze every now and then, he sighed before closing his eyes. It was lonely as all heck. He was lonely. While the other puppies played together or interacted and did things together, he felt like an outcast. He wasn't sure if it was because he was a dwarf or they didn't see him as one of their own, but whatever the case, it was starting to get to him. He felt like he had to grow up before faster thanks to both parents leaving him, but even with his sire back, nothing really changed.

He was still here. On his own. Left to his own devices. Occasionally, his aunt checked on him, but that still didn't fill the void that everything had left in him.

So when he heard someone else call for a spar, he flipped over onto his stomach and thought about it for a moment. He didn't know who called, but he understood the tone behind it. He, of course, wouldn't pass up the opportunity. If they didn't come to him, he supposed he'd have to go to them. Not even to prove himself to them, no. He wanted to prove to himself he was better.

Getting to his feet, he went in search of the caller and it didn't take long before he reached the border to the allied pack and he spotted him. A large, gangly boy that was purple. Gimli almost couldn't believe his eyes and had to do a double take. He hadn't seen someone with such colors before, and it was certainly interesting compared to his mixed brown coat. Approaching the other boy, he gazed up at him. The difference between them was their height and color, and of course, Gimli was the only wolf he knew with a beard of sorts. It was neatly braided and held together with a clip bearing Tyr's symbol, something he chose for himself that represented him.

"Ye called fer a spar? Min' if I join ye?" He asked curiously, though his tone was guarded. Would the boy accept? Or try to chase him away?