Old threads

The Warlord blinked in surprise at the sight of him. He seemed older in years then he should be. Creaking and ancient and heavy. The Warlord looked at this shadow of his old friend, and he sighed softly. He did glance at the African dog for a moment, nodding towards the creature. “What does he mean?” he asked softly, needing all the facts.


Before turning back to Magnus. He moved forward, and crouched in front of the damaged wolf. He raised a paw and gently tucked it under Mag’s chin, lifting the other wolf's head, and taking him in. looking at the sunken eyes, the depression. Sirius knew the pain of depression. He had felt it curl about his heart before, strangling every drop of himself until he couldn’t breath. “What do you remember” He asked softly.

"Sirius"