To a Glorious Harvest! [Fireside Fall Festival]

When the news of a festival spread throughout the Armada, Magnus knew he couldn't sit around and wait for everyone to get back. He had something to prove, if not to everyone else, but to himself as well. He wouldn't, couldn't, be useless for the rest of his life for a injury he doesn't even remember happening. If he could walk on three legs, he could run. So why shouldn't he be able to hunt? No one could change his mind, no healer, not Sirius, nobody. Magnus was intent on getting to the festival, and was surprised to be one of the first that made it. He had gotten up early after all, maybe others weren't as determined as him.

A few others had gathered before him but that didn't matter. As he moved towards the gathering, with each companion dog on either side for support in case he stumbled, Magnus found a spot to sit and allowed his companions to relax by him as well. He may need them, he may not, but he didn't want to dismiss them to their own activities if he would.


"Speech!"

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