A call Hazel knows well echoed over the Col. Though she'd been tense, ragged, sore... sore all the way into her chest, over the things that had happened with Bas, it hadn't stopped her from doing her job. Nothing would. She could focus on work. She could focus on a job to do. At the Warlord's call, Hazel rises.
Bas hadn't arrived yet, and for that, she's somewhat grateful. Spider though... pride etched clear on the General's face. It shines in a way that she couldn't conceal, even at the risk of embarrassing the yearling. Hazel bumped the child's shoulder with her muzzle on her way through, before taking her place in closer proximity to the Warlord. Right. Not just a ceremonial place, but one of importance. If Sirius had extra instructions, they needed to be able to walk and talk. Green eyes glimmering, Hazel was ready for this one. Always.
