Fuel to the Flame

Ludovic’s stance was firm, paws rooted into the earth as he braced for the inevitable onslaught. His tail flicked, a restless motion to his otherwise composed demeanor, betraying the rush of anticipation building within him. The moment Aresenn had called them to stand as one, that weight of expectation had settled on his shoulders, a pressure he welcomed but didn’t take lightly.

He glanced sideways, at Zagan and then Xina, how they were prepared for their respective roles. Good, he thought, lips twitching into a faint, approving smirk. We’re ready.

“They’ll be out to split us up, but I bet they won’t use any handy dandy teamwork to do it since they have numbers. Let's use that.” he muttered quietly, jerking his chin slightly to signal how spread out the opponents were. He gave a short, firm nod to his team, knowing they’d keep their formation strong if they took that advantage and ran with it.

With a final steadying breath, he lowered his stance, shoulders rolling back, gaze fierce and unblinking as he locked onto the clearing as a whole. Ready for movement. Hold fast.


"Ludovic Praetor-Inferos"