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A call from his general was an unexpected distraction. He veered off his patrol without hesitation and made his way to the outskirts of the woods at a light trott. Her call may have indicated a lack of urgency, but it was unusual for her to call to him at the borders.

He arrived to find her with a child. For a split moment, he wondered if there was any way it could be hers - but there was no way he would have missed the scent or signs. He had been around too many pregnant wolves in his life. Instead, he got left with an off sense of deja vu. He remembered another wolf, and another time. When Basilisk as a child had brought home an abandoned child.

"Hello, little one" the Warlord said softly. The gruff old man's soft spot for children was almost legendary these days. "Their parents?" He asked softly, his eyes on Hazel now.

"Speech"