brave as a noun

The new armour fit like a glove, and he was glad he'd managed to get his paws on it. Restoring the rusty, well worn chest and shoulder plates had taken time, and refitting the new straps with the old buckles had taken even longer. Lounging in the sun, he had doffed the steel plates from his chest and shoulders, and let them dry in the sun. The alabaster Destruction male wasn't certain he would ever tire of the sunlight, after the Long Night and everything that had transpired therein. Raure was settling in, slowly but surely. The new rank system was taking some time to adjust to, but he found himself enjoying the opportunity to learn more from the established adults that lived in Abaven. Now, it was merely a matter of finding his own role within the new structure. That would be enough for now, and he could busy himself with caring for the remaining wolves in his life.

He basked in the sunlight, and the sound of the waves was a balm on his tired mind. After the swim across the narrow channel, his muscles ached comfortably. The giant male wouldn't mind a nap right about now, but it felt like it would be a waste of a beautiful day. There hadn't been the smell of ozone in the air when he left, and the skies had remained blissfully clear of ominous clouds. So, he reached out a paw to feel if the leather straps of his armour were still wet, and found them bone dry. A grunt of satisfaction was all he uttered as he lumbered to his paws and slipped into the steel plates. The buckles still took him a moment to adjust and close, but then he was good to go. Of the most intrigue were the series of small stone buildings that squatted throughout the overgrown rainforest that dominated the island. Vines and undergrowth was trying to reclaim them, taking any little break in the crumbling walls and shattered glass to secure a stronger hold on the ancient structures. Heavy, self assured pawsteps brought him towards a gap in the wall, where it had crumbled away from roof to foundation. Easy to slip through, even for a wolf of his size.

It took a while for his eyes to adjust, but they hardly needed to. The subtle glow that they'd begun to constantly emit after the Long Night served a purpose well enough, and illuminated vague shapes in the darkness. Pale silver haloed his broad, stern features as the handsome yearling plodded lackadaisically into the small room. Assorted furniture was scattered about, some of it dismantled for raw materials, others mouldering in corners where they had long ago been forgotten. Places like these had a strange ability to simultaneously draw his captivation and unease, and he rarely conquered the urge to walk past one. He tipped over a three legged side table as he slipped past, and grunted in surprise. Had he always been so big?