Sweet Spring Breezes

He took in her suggestions with a pleased look as she said Mortis was suggesting a storytelling night for the Armada. “Oh definitely. Even aside from the Valhallan history, the Nomads themselves have a long history, and a majority of it is tied with Erani’s past. And I’d love to hear what kind of stories and cultures other wolves come from. There’ll also be healer’s events and such.”

His tail lashed the air with visible anticipation of the upcoming event. “I’m definitely going to be in the fighting and hunting for sure. I haven’t gotten to compete in the fighting in the past. Missed Winterfell’s tournament and festival, too.”

He paused and grinned at Lia, as he remembered, “Mortis mentioned you have some wicked stories of your own.”

A sudden leap followed the words, a caper akin to a hare’s leap before he bolted suddenly, having just flicked a paw out to tap for her shoulder. “Tag, by the way!”

Although his trot held a faint limp, he was still a speedy bastard at a flat run, and hopefully had the advantage in a surprise attack as a laugh floated over his shoulder in his wake up the incline toward the rim of the basin, tail flagging and wagging.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think