Ain't Half As Sweet as Rotting Meat

Asla waited and had no problem doing so. Her call hadn't been one of urgency and so she didn't expect him to hurry. Instead, the young mother lowered her head to her paws and closed her eyes to half mast, watching the slowly flickering fire. In time, Naiche arrived, settling down beside her and nuzzling into her cheek. He wasted no time in asking what was going on and she would waste no time in telling him just that.

With a long exhale, Asla got right to the heart of the matter. "Naiche, I'm leaving the Armada in the spring." The woman curled her neck, fixing him with her celestial gaze. "I'm taking Satira and Arcturus with me. We're going to travel and I'm going to teach them to survive on their own. To depend on themselves rather than a pack." Her gaze drifted towards the mouth of the den where their children slept soundly without a care in the world. "I need them to be able to take care of themselves and I need them to be able to think for themselves and they can't do that here." The pack had too much influence on its members. Asla was adamant that the pups have no outside persuasion to mold their personalities as an alpha saw fit. She wanted them to be free to choose who they were.

"They'll still be accessible. Everyone will be able to see them if they wish. We'll just be gone for long stretches of time." The woman's brow furrowed as she searched the man's golden features. "My father was going to fight me to keep them here against my will," she informed him. "Lately the Armada makes me miserable. Out in the wild... we would all thrive." How would he react to her words, she wondered?

"Aslatiel"