Teaching the ropes

And there she was. She’d gotten so tall lately, her tawny form towering over the long grasses. The Warlord grinned at the sight of her, grabbing her as she approached and kissing her brow. Careful not to mess up her coat, even the old man Warlord could see she’d made efforts to look nice. “You look wonderful” he told her, releasing her and giving her space. “Indeed, let's be off” he said, sending Bast forward with a gesture. Marshal already glided soundlessly above them.

With his daughter at his side, the Warlord let them away from Armada territories, and towards their allies. It wasn’t long before they were approaching the rapids. As they neared the border, he nudged Briar. “Abaven is a peaceful pack. Theory, the Alpha here, likes to keep the peace. She’s always been welcoming, no matter that i’ve given her some trouble in the past” he gave her a crooked smile “Would you like to do the owners of calling out for her?”


"Sirius Fatalis"