Heart of a Bear

The Warlord’s eyebrows climbed at the younger wolf's irritated tone. Noting the way he had jumped when Seer spoke, it was clear to see he was right about being preoccupied. He wondered what was irritating the young wolf. He paused as Marshal swooped down, flaring his wings before settling down on the Warlords broad back. He braced for the weight, and then turned his attention back to the stranger. “I’m Sirius Fatalis, Warlord of the Armada. Are you quite familiar with these lands?” he asked.

There hadn’t been any packs in the North when he and his son had scouted the area, but that didn’t mean there weren’t wolves that lived here. It would be handy to talk with a few wolves that had lived here their whole lives. Who knew how the winters would be, and so on.


"Speech"