Macabre had, indeed, insisted on venturing past the safety of the packlands. He’d explored almost every inch the land offered and yet he craved more adventure. And it wasn’t like Ghoul, his advebture buddy, had said anything against it, either. If anything, he egged the speckled child on, and here they were. Off to bigger and better things.
As they neared the springs, the heat from the bubbling waters forced steam in the air, and blew through the boy’s pelt. Same with a familiar scent. Ghoul had smelled it first, and then Mac sensed it as well. He smirked as he saw the little quilled, raptor-clawed pipsqueak that had beaten him in his first spar. His wide cheshire grin paired with the ominous glow of his silver eyes really didn’t help either. He eyed his former opponent with a grin. He was bigger and stronger now - and he had his bigger brother Ghoul with him, too. Two against one - it really increased the odds. "What a treat indeed," Mac said teasingly, looking over the smaller pup. He crouched down in a sort of play bow, but lower to the ground. Boy, he was ready for round 2. He wasn’t so satisied with their last spar, anyways.
