they should call me icarus, flying this close to the sun

“That’s what I like to hear” Sirius huffed in amusement, as the grass grew patchy beneath their paws. Hopping down a sandy bank the Warlord let his paws sink into the familiar loose landing of his second territory. He made a beeline for the barracks, which stood as the central point for the training grounds. Dotted on each side of the barracks were the arenas, outlined by ropes staked to the ground.

In front of the barracks stood a row of training dummies. “You’ll find an assortment of fighting accessories you can familiarise yourself with in the barracks, along with replacement stuffings for the dummies, and so forth.” He explained. “That's the main points of the Armada - you’ll find mine and my wifes den down thataway” he raised a paw and pointed to a spot in the Armada near the Ashen border. “Our lead healer, Mojito, lives that way.” He pointed in another direction. “I’ll sure you’ll stumble across the rest of the lot over time.”

"Speech"