WORDS ARE THE SHARPEST WEAPONS

Virgil had to plan out her strategies, and that meant surveying the lands. Today her legs carried her down south, where the weather was much more pleasant and the environment much more enjoyable. Amenti was tolerable, if only for her growing attachment to its leader, but Virgil was a child of warm blood. She enjoyed the rays of sun hitting her flesh, enjoyed the embrace of spring, and the frigid North was not very much to her liking. She had yet to interact with many packs, and the golden matriarch found it necessary. She needed to know who existed where, who ruled what, and who would prove the best match for an alliance with her family.
Today, she would find herself on the borders of Ludicael, surveying the territory and reclining. She barked brief summons for the rulers of the land, posture being stiff and dominant, caring little if it was out of place in lands that were not her own. Virgil was born of the gods, and the others would quickly learn to bow to her. She wasn?t here to war with them or beg them for something; she was here for conversation, for information, to glean what this pack was like and what this and its surrounding territories might also be like.