anemoia

From what time he has spent on the Battlefield, Raumr has come to learn the different howls of wolves. Some were shaky with nerves, others boomed with over-boosted egos. This one though was different. Was it mocking those around them? Intrigue glimmered in his amber gaze as he prowled over the dusty and bloodstained plateau. It wouldn't take long for him to find the source of the howl. The wolf's off-key humming was soon picked up by his rounded ears. He doesn't appear too different than other wolves he's come across, but the mannerism of being so nonchalant amidst a flurry of violence causes Raumr's head to tilt.

If he was any sort of intelligent, he would agree with his gut sense that this wasn't going to be an everyday, average spar. Truthfully, it lit the fire in his belly. Perhaps this wolf would be of some sort of challenge? Not so easily struck down by his paws or intimidated by the way his towering frame practically glides over the ground. Raumr can't hide the smirk lingering on his scarred lips as he approaches the boy.

"You wish to spar? Let us see how you do against me," he challenges playfully, that glimmer in his eyes growing brighter as he readies his defenses.

Raumr Regalus, the Third