Whisper had come here in hopes of a spar, but was going to find herself a spectator instead. So many wolves had already gathered, and one scent stood out among the others. Whisper moved with all the certainty of a loosed arrow and draped herself across Hazel like a cape in lieu of a greeting. It was something she had picked up living among the Archers, they were a touchy-feely bunch, to the point it was hard to differentiate individual scents from the combined scent of the pack. Her heart hurt to remember it, she was homesick, but it wasn't for this place. Hazel would understand.
She didn't feel strongly one way or another who was being challenged, she knew she should care that it was Armada, but it felt like a whisper of a bad dream when she looked back on all that happened in her short life so far. Hazel had been a part of the pack for much longer than she had. "What do y'think mum'd think of this?"
