A Kill A Day . . . [Sirius]

He would be taking it easy for a few days, but as a general rule, the Warlord didn’t show his wounds when he could help it. The painkillers were still running through his bloodstream, and well his ribs ached and his side felt bruised, it wasn’t enough to keep him down. Bast was going to need a small vocation after this, she seemed to have gotten the worst of the angry bear. At the reminder, he was almost sad the creature was dead, he couldn’t kill it again now.

He had to laugh at Hesters words, though he meant no offence to it. He gave her a friendly shoulder bump. “Oh grief,” he laughed. “A solid eighty percent of my wolves are healers, and the rest are my family. I have nothing to fear from these wolves when injured. I almost wish it were otherwise, I wouldn’t mind a few more beefy fighters around” he joked. He had definitely gone wrong somewhere when creating his Armada.

“Ah, that would be a handy trick. Wish I thought of it.” he said with a gusty sigh, soft amusement in the flick of his tail.

“Well, if you decide to linger instead, I might just have a place for you…” his suggestion wasn’t very subtle.