To Live is to Fight [Sirius]

She offered no complaints to the arrangement the pack had with Deathbelle, which was just as well. The Warlord was loyalty to his previous master, and arguing with him over it would be akin to banging your head on a tree; not likely to get you anywhere, but certain to get you a headache.

The scents off the ocean were refreshing as they passed the sea by, and as they got closer to the woods, the Warlord would also catch the scent of prey. He laughed at her growling stomach and admittance to a desire to eat. “Alright” he agreed, always happy to hunt.

He sniffed the air a few times, determining that the creature they both had scented was a goose. A bastard of an animal, but slow to get into the air. If they were careful, they should be able to bring it down. He crouched down low in the foliage as he determined how far away their prey was.