One last call for alcohol

When the initial summons rang out, open ended and demanding, it didn't immediately register. After all, a measly slave boy wouldn't be invited into the fray of battle.. right? However, the second (and far more insistent) call that followed soon after had him hauling himself to his paws in a hurry. Alright, so perhaps his presence was being called for today. Moving towards the source of the call at a steady lope, the delicate male did his utmost to ensure that his posture remained submissive and demure as he closed in on the gathering. There were already quite a few of his pack members around, milling about as they awaited the beginning of the meeting. What had the leaders summoned him here for? Was he supposed to be tending to their food and drink needs?

The petite phantom sought to meet the Warlord's eye as subtly and cautiously as possible, seafoam gaze flicking back down to his paws as quickly as possible. Svelte form clung to the edges of the assembled wolves, settling with hunched shoulders and downcast gaze as he awaited the beginning of the meeting.