All Washed Up

The Warlord's disapproval grew as the washway wolf took offence. He didn’t remember the boy's name, only that he had been a child in Ashen under Deathbelles rule, and a child to Dutch. A wolf who he had spent some small amount of time with, what felt like a lifetime ago. Now he was on Armada lands, cursing at the Warlord for remembering his mothers name.

It took a few more slow moments of working through the past to remember that he had also been a child of Hannibal. Deathbelles brother and sometimes lover. A wolf Sirius sometimes grudgingly respected, and other times actively disliked. A wolf that also had abandoned Ashen, and Deathbelle.

He did not approve of the wolf's attitude, injured or not. He had a lot of talk for a wolf injured and at the Warlord's mercy. The coved shape of the Armada beach meant he had to have started out near Daager Isle, or Ashen territory. He had not seen him around Ashen for some time, but he had to know… “Mind your tongue, boy” he said, for he still did not recall the name he was born to. “Are you Venom’s wolf?” If so, he would return the boy to her immediately so he could seek the help he likely needed.

"Speech"