The eye of the storm

Theron's ears twitched at the sound of a call that beckoned him to a meeting. Slowly, he lifted himself to his paws, making a show of a stretch to no one before meandering his way over. He had a plan to be the last one there, nearly late but not enough to get punished for it. It was little acts of defiance like this that made him feel a bit better about his situation, even if they were more akin to a stubborn pup than a grown wolf.

Once he reached his destination, it was full of an audience of strangers. Theron felt unease creep up his spine as he found a place to sit at the edge of the crowd, his attention torn between the warlord who called the meeting and the sea of wolves he was sitting beside. He had never been a fan of big groups, but he was curious to see what this meeting could be about.

"Speech"