Beat down the doors

Atreus padded on his leaders' heels intently as they passed into pack lands. Enemy lands, for today, though he knew his uncle led the pack and the raid was intended to be friendly. Intentions did not always hold sway over reality, however, and he was alert and ready for any possibility when his grandfather called for the other pack. It didn't take long for them to begin trickling in, and he held himself in readiness. He had taken extra care with his bracers on the trip here to present a respectably polished appearance and the dark leather gleamed with vitality, the gunmetal gray of the sharpened studs sleek. The cat that padded silently beside him was even more sleek and dangerous looking than the armor, and those emerald eyes nearly as cold as Atreus' as they each turned their heads to scan the land around them. It felt odd, still, to have the jaguar with him. They hadn't worked together long, and the sharp-winged falcon that winged overhead had been with him even less time. It likely wasn't the best circumstances to be fighting beside new partners and with new armor, but Kelsier had been confident that they'd be fine, and Atreus had been ambivalent enough about it to agree to take the jaguar along. Vin was as unreadable as always, and hadn't even asked before following the raiding party. Well, they'd stand or fall by what little training they'd done together in the last few weeks, anyway. Prowling along the edges of the brawl, he eyed the Valta wolves with a narrow, cold gaze, watching for one to catch his eye.