An old moon

It was a cool evening that found the autumn wind rustling through the hardy leaves yet to fall. It whistled across the open field, and stirred the ends of the wolf's thick coat. Beneath the fading light of dusk, hints of the full moon gave silvery edges to a sky full of clouds. It had been a long time since the paws of the Warlord had led him here.

Perhaps it was restlessness, or an itch that scarcely touched the older wolf now. Whatever the reasoning, he lifted his head and surveyed the field before him. The earth was rough from many paws, ripped soil and the rusty remains of old blood. It was both alien and familiar to the old Warlord as he lifted his head higher. Pointing it towards the silvery moon and opened his maw and howled. Letting his call roll across the barren fields and invite another to find him.

"Sirius"