Cruel hands of fate

Sirius

The Warlord was on patrol when the bird found him. It was an unhappy thing, settling uneasily on a tree above him. It ruffled its feathers repeatedly as if it couldn't sit still. The Warlord came to a stop, squinting at the creature. "I've been looking for you, from the Seas Plains, to Auster, and up the mountains!" It said, voice stressed. A companion? What was the urgency? He came to attention. Puzzled eyes on the strange bird. "My Mistress, Recluse, is dead! Her children are still enslaved in Insomnia." Still? The word caught his attention.
A growl started in the back of the Warlords throat. "Dead? By Medusa's paws?" He asked, a threat rolling in on tongue. The bird ruffled its feathers again, shaking its head. "A different wolf, I do not know her"

He could scarcely believe it. Recluse, dead? Her children enslaved? How had he missed so much… regret plunged through him. He hadn’t been close to Recluse, but she had been family. She had raised a pack as a part of their collection of Empires. It’s fall had been a sad thing, but this? “Where was she laid to rest, do you know?” He said. He needed to go to Insomnia. He would bring her children home.

"Speech"

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Cruel hands of fate

Sirius