hold the heathen hammer high

Hattori knew he was not, and yet here he was. Far from Tojo, deep in the snow with a bitter wind rustling his coat, sheening the black iridescent. The Kaicho had a feeling there was much the norther was not saying, that something had happened to separate himself from his family, others who would fit in well with this cold and harsh climate. Strong wolves from a relentless land. He wondered if they were anything like the Ainu, ruggedly built wolves who were seemingly of an older stock, more base and in touch with nature.

Hattori thought on it for a moment, realising that those woods were now taken, claimed by the Armada. No wonder there was a slight hint of bitterness in his tone regarding this topic.

"You also do not seem the sort to wait around for things to change." Hattori then pointed out, pale brows furrowing slightly. Going up against the Armada was not a move to be taken lightly, both of them knew this, surely.