One last call for alcohol

Halo had been setting another batch of alcohol to ferment when the initial call had come. All things considered, the pale healer considered that it likely didn't apply to her. Though she'd trained in self defense with the Warlord himself, the idea of going on the offense... well, was she ready for that? The Armada was a pack filled with warriors, and she'd only felt more and more out of place as she realized it. Warriors. How could Halo ever measure up? The grey had been fairly well settled in lately, and the thought of a raid (a practice raid, even) was enough to bring it on even stronger.

Azure's call came next. They needed more. That, and he sounded irritable. Maybe it was a reckless decision, but Halo looked to Mr. Raccoon and left him in charge of the fire where it crackled merrily in its pit. Though she may not have been equipped for a raid, it would be important for her to learn. It would be important for her to see first hand what went on. It would be important for her to see and hear and feel in the thick of things. In a split second, the tenderhearted creature's mind was made up. She would go, she would learn, and maybe she could even prove it (to herself more than anyone else) that she belonged here.

On near-silent paws, she slipped into the meeting and settled at the back of the congregation around the obelisk. Azure still made her uncomfortable, that was for sure, and she avoided looking at him almost entirely. Instead she looked to Sirius and waited.

"Halo"