Behind the mask

She grinned, tail flicking – and leaving a blur in the air for just an eye-blink – as she nodded, “I intend to. Ideally, the hosts would change with each festival tournament, each pack taking a turn. I do like the idea of spreading the responsibility. Someone to oversee the games, the hunt, the fights—perhaps all the alphas could preside as judges?”

He’d sparked a light off the woman, and those eyes glittered with ideas and forethought. She bounced one of those ideas off the Warlord, ears perking with interest, “What would you say to an interpack tournament that takes place each year. The packs’ best fighters compete with their fellow packmates and train their hardest, and the wolf who comes out on top in each pack fights as that pack’s champion in a tournament as a sort of friendly competition?

“The winning pack of the year – or season, even, if it’s an idea that everyone really likes – gets something from the pack of their choice. A pass to hunt one large animal, or gather an herb that might only grow in that pack’s territory. There would have to be a treatise witnessed by all alphas and betas so that there cannot be false accusations of trespassing, I’d think.”

How would he, and for that matter, the other packs think of the idea? It was a chance for the packs to flex their muscles at each other without serious injury. It would certainly be an optional thing.

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