lost aggressive youth

The Warlord was slowly making his way through the wolves of the Armada. Checking in, and seeing how they were going. Giving his children jobs and assigning them tasks, and in general restarting the movements of the Armada of the long and endless night.

He found a fresh scent of Grimshaw, and followed it towards the border between the woods and the Armada. He stopped by the border, breathing in deeply, and following the comings and goings of his wolves with his nose. Breathing in the familiar scent of all those that called the Armada home, and then crossing over into the woods. He caught the trail of Grim again shortly after that, leading him further into the woodland territory. He found the dark coated man, and approached him. “Grimshaw,” he said, looking the other wolf up and down. “You're looking good. How are you feeling?”


"Sirius Fatalis"