a trophy father's trophy son

The Warlord flew through the woods. His paws barely touched earth between each bound, and he propelled himself on by sheer willpower and rage. And then he was there, watching the movement of his son as he held his teeth in the grizzly’s shoulder.

He barely slowed as he ploughed into the raging creature. His shoulder hitting the grizzly upper underarm hard as he drove it back a few steps. But even the Warlord couldn’t easily topple a grizzly. He didn’t need to, he just needed to keep it distracted so his son could find a way to get his fangs into its throat. He heard the sounds of Bast and Bear arriving on scene, and knew that between them they could keep the grizzly bear off his son.


"Sirius Fatalis"