This upcoming war was not Seracia's. Whilst some of the members offered to help the allies, Iorwerth had been unable to do his part, he was too new to the pack. Sure he could stay behind and help protect the visiting wolves from Valhalla, but it felt like a bit of a consolation prize. It was the correct choice of course, the pack knew nothing really about him and in all honestly he of course had only just heard of the alliance as he heard about the war itself. To stay here was the King's decision for him, and he had no choice really but to respect that. A part of him was slightly relieved, he would keep out of the politics he knew so little about, though it surely would have been a wonderful opportunity to prove himself.
He would simply have to wait, he would have plenty of opportunities to develop within the pack, and it was surely better for him to learn more before attempting to rise through the ranks at all. It was all common sense, he knew it and yet still couldn't help that small amount of disappointment, fortunately hidden by his stony exterior though, he certainly didn't want to be stuck at the bottom of the pack for too long, somewhere with a little bit of power, proof that he was a success was what he longed for.
To start he really ought to head back and actually start socialising with his new pack, get to know others and hopefully as more than acquaintances. And yet a little after the others had left, he had found himself tracing their very same path, halting as he grew closer to the borders. To leave would perhaps seem like he was disobeying, about to go and help anyway but he couldn't bring himself to head back just yet. He could do a patrol of sorts, even if it wasn't his job to do so.
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