There's blood in the water

She and her father had taken some time away from Valhalla to just be a father and daughter. Of course, it hadn’t stayed to typical dad and daughter stuff, and they now strolled amiably through a star-studded night in the basin, with the distant hush-hush of the ocean miles off in the background, and the soft rustles of small prey animals skittering through the sweet, rolling waves of autumn grass.

The Spirit glowed brightly as ever in the night, a gracefully gliding, mystical thing on a night with no moon. Her light cast coolly against her father’s brilliant red fur as they walked abreast of each other, heads bent toward each other, murmuring softly.

Aurielle mused quietly, casting her eye over the basin as she said, “The fights could be held here, at the bottom of the basin. It would give spectators a good view. The trade tents could be up on the high ground. And the guest tents would probably do best placed inland, so that those from more distant packs will have a place to rest as soon as they arrive.”

Steadily they circled the great basin, deep in conversation, and only giving the area a rudimentary observation, enough to be sure no danger was near. It was a good while before Aurielle’s bi-hued gaze fell on a monochromatic frame standing out by the pool and her conversation paused. Her eyes studied him, taking in the injury on his foreleg before she called out, voice carrying easily “Hello, are you alright?”

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think