Delirious Dancing

The warriors were off doing their thing. Flexing their muscles at some other pack, while she was tasked with cleaning out the medical clinic and washing the sheets. She got to her task, and did consider the possibility of just… taking off. Most of the Armada’s forces has surely left for the Raid.

But when she peeked out the door, airing out some of the bedding, she realised there were still guards on patrol. Of course there was. How big was this stupid pack, anyway? She had long finished her job and was dozing on her cot when a voice rang out outside. She lifted her head sleepily, stifling a yawn. Was that Oleander?

He sounded giddy, reminding her of his young age as he floundered into the den. Holding something in his paw as his eyes zeroed in on her. He moved with far too much energy through the wide cavern and she found herself stifling another yawn. What was he rambling about? Oh, right. His battles. No doubt he’d need someone to patch him up, as well. She found herself eying him critically, looking for wounds. Not that she cared, but someone would have to do the work of patching him. “What is it, My lord?” She asked, through it looked similar to the bottle Wilder had snuck them a little while ago.


"Vesper"