Sorry, bae, but I ain't swipin' right

The Battlefield wasn’t far from the Armada. He had heard the first call, and the second. By the third his curiosity led him away from his duties and out into the field. Curious at the wolf who was clearly testing herself, or perhaps pulled the short end of a straw.

When he arrived, he found a purple toned wolf with a shimmer of gold markings across her face. The mountain of a wolf tipped his head to her lightly. He was accustomed to standing taller than all the wolves of the land, though she wasn’t as short as most. “Your determination does you credit. I’ll take this match.” He offered, stretching his limber legs out, and testing the suppleness of his muscles.


"Basilisk Fatalis"