Among the greats

Gossamer pranced back into Armada lands, her fur sticky with coyote blood. She had retrained very few injuries and managed to make quick work of the coyote that had been caught wandering into Armada lands. Of course it fled when she chased it but she wasn't willing to just let it go. She was eager to see what she could do after the invasion of the dire wolves and was delighted to see the quick work her fangs could make of an opponent if she managed to bite just right. Ásta trailed along after her.

Gossamer had been planning to head to the sea to wash herself off a bit but then she heard her father's urgent call. Oh no, what now? More dire wolves? Gossamer sprinted toward the source of the call and arrived to see her father and Aslatiel. Her father looked exhausted and there was a cart full of something burned. Her brow furrowed as she wrinkled her nose at the smell. What the heck was that for? "Dad?"