You may hate me, but I can't hate you

Entering the battlefield, Zagan didn’t have a particular opponent in mind- he was just looking for a fight- a means of burning off some of his frustration. And he didn’t want to spar with any of his packmates- he’d done that relentlessly- so much, that he could almost predict their attacks, their strategies. He needed someone new to pit himself against.

He was trotting along the eastern border of the battlefield when a call rang out- a summons for a sparring partner. He didn’t hesitate to gravitate toward the call. It led him to a large clearing- a pup not much younger than himself, standing on the opposite side. The challenger. Testing the air, Zagan recognizes the scent that bathes the stranger. Insomnia. The pack that foolishly raided them last season.

A scorching wave of anger bubbled in Zagan’s chest, his pelt bristling, his quills flaring, as he fell into an offensive posture. In the sky above them, his raven was circling, and at his back, his panther was watching. “Looking for a challenge, Insomnia boy?” He growls, his voice low and challenging- but his lips are pulled into a sharp, perverse grin- the thought of inflicting pain beckoning to the deeply rooted sadism in his soul.

"Zagan Saxe"