Ready, aim...

Avacyn was correct, he had anticipated her call, but there was a part of him that was always ready to heed her summons. As her betrothed that was just part of his duty, but he always welcomed her presence. Of course, with the angelic form of Avacyn there was the devilish one of Saracyn. Albion, ever amicable, hid any kind of emotion that might rise. The prince gave Avacyn a sly smirk, and pointedly ignored Saracyn’s presence.

He hadn’t quite yet proven himself a master in fighting, but hopefully this raid would dispel any more doubt. Albion’s regal form made his way to sit close to where Avacyn had made her perch, certain of his own importance here and his future within the pack. He leaned back onto ivory hips, held his head high, and awaited the rest of their group and who the intended target might be.

"Albion Klein"