preparations

War was pounding at the borders of their sister pack Valhalla and Seracia would not let them face this alone. Maverick's summoning howl would breach the atmosphere, calling any warriors that were available. Pontifex wasn't a warrior anymore, but he would fight for him kingdom regardless. Abandoning his pacing, the Grand Duke would move towards the call, golden gems coming across the russet figure of his monarch. A low bow would be presented to the King, grey brows furrowed together in deep worry. My lord...Are we at war? Tones would be grave, knowing that it was highly likely but wanting to have confirmation anyways.


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