Through the long night

The Warlord passed outside the den, letting his thoughts sink slowly into place. It was a chilled morning, Winter would not be far off now. The supplies had finally built up once more, and the new storage was fresh and full. With extra precautions taken to keep it safe from flooding.

There were things going on, but it was a pack, a union of wolves. There would always be things going on. He let a soft sigh slip his lips, and then stepped back into the den. There was only one way to decide how to proceed, and that was to talk it over with his Wife. “Zee, dear?”

"Sirius Fatalis"