Wounded Pride and an Empty Stomach

If there was anything to say about the shimmering, glowing white Spirit of Valhalla, it was that she was one without end to her patience. Her lips twitched in faint amusement at the snarky, snide response, half turning to leave with a smooth, “My apologies. Be well, then.” when a wholly unexpected form came into sight.

A brow lifted as she studied Sirius, head cocking as she looked up at him. If anyone was to be unexpected to be encountered up here it was Sirius, given the Armada’s eastern location. Then again, perhaps he’d been to speak with Acere, as most alphas did make circuits like herself.

Her long-haired tail flicked, buffeting on the breeze as it stroked fingers through the mane from her scruff. “I must admit the same about you, Sirius… How is he?”

The question was laced with concern for her young apprentice. It had been a week since Cairo had been taken in by the Armada to heal until he was ready to travel so far. However, she waited only long enough for an answer before she took her leave, nodding to the grouchy man—Askan, as he’d introduced himself, still with as much salt as an ocean. She did have to wonder what had happened to the younger wolf to make him so caustic and defensive.

-Exit unless stopped?-

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