The days were warming up, and the Warlord decided to spend the afternoon in the woods. He had noticed a crack in one of the steps to the treehouse Basilisk and Hazel used, so he took out the step and got to work repairing it. He oozed tree sap over the crack, and scraped it into the wound. He set it aside so the air would harden it.

As he waited, he leaned back on his hunches and listened to the woods around him. He had lived in a few places over his long years now. But this place had become familiar to him. The sounds of these Northern birds made him think of home.


"Speech"

Wynter trotted back toward the home she shared with her family, a bundle of plants that could almost be called flowers held between her teeth. It was still a bit too early in the spring for the flowers to really be in bloom so her finds were mostly just buds, but some of them had begun to open and that was good enough to bring back to her mom! She didn't know if anyone would be home when she got there, but she was especially surprised to find her grandfather there instead of one of her parents or siblings. Even though she hadn't expected him, she was very happy to see him! "Gwa-dpa!" she called out, her greeting broken and muffled by the stems she was carrying. She hurried over to him and put her "flowers" down before she went to greet him properly, reaching up toward him on her hind legs to try and kiss his cheek. "Grandpa! What're you up to? Can I help?"

"Wynter Carpathius"

It wasn’t long before he was ambushed by one of his grandkids. He laughed and opened up his paws as little Wynter came racing towards him. She pushed to put her flowers down, and jumped up to kiss his cheek. As she did so, he wrapped his paws around her and lifted her off the ground, and onto his shoulder. “Hello, Wynter.” he told her fondly. “I was fixing a step to Bas and Hazel’s house” he explained.

“Say, Wynter, do you know what your middle name is?” He asked her, voice lightly amused. He had only recently found out himself what his mischievous son had named the poor girl. One of his grandkids was named after him. It seemed every day the Fatalis history got a little longer.


"Speech"

Wynter squealed and giggled as her grandfather scooped her up like she was the littlest thing ever–which compared to him she supposed she was! He was giant like her dad! She landed on his shoulder and she nestled herself in here, hanging onto his dark fur with her tail wagging happily. As he shared that he had been fixing one of the stairs that led up into their house, she looked down from her new perch, seeing that one of the stairs was indeed gone and the stair in question was off to the side, patched together and drying. "Ooooooh..." she mused. "You're so handy, grandpa!" He could do anything, she was sure of it!

Her attention was brought back to him, her ears perking to listen as he questioned her whether she knew what her middle name was. "Well yeah!" she giggled, giving him a look that showed how silly she thought his question was. "It's your name, grandpa!" she said proudly, grinning widely at the fact. A lot of her siblings had names from important wolves and family members and such, but she was the only one that got to be named after their grandfather–the Warlord! "I have the coolest name, obviously! And I'm gonna be big and strong like you one day!"

"Wynter Carpathius"

He ruffled her fur and smiled at her. “It's easy to break things, it's fixing things that takes time. Would you like to learn how to use tree sap?” He asked her, wondering if her curiosity extended to such things.


“It's a good name on you, Wynter, if I do say so myself” he teased her lightly. He wiggled her paws as he spoke, smiling at the small Fatalis girl. The traditional eye markings had formed a little differently on her, but her heritage could not be denied. She was further proof of the family growing and changing. Perhaps one day she would have children who would have children. Would the Armada still live in that time? “I think you're right about that. Look at the size of these paws!” he wiggled them some more as he spoke. “You planning on being a Warlord one day?” He teased her lightly.

"Thanks, grandpa!" she replied enthusiastically to the compliment he gave their shared name, her chest puffing out proudly for a moment before she dissolved into giggles as he played with her paws. She swatted at his toes with a grin, marveling at how much bigger his paws were than hers. She definitely didn't have the smallest paws, of course. Some of her siblings were smaller than her–or in Whisper's case way smaller than her–but it was still hard to picture her own paws being as big as her father's or grandfather's sometimes. She knew she'd get there eventually though! Her grandfather only reinforced that idea as he commented on the size of her paws making her giggle again.

When he asked her if she was going to be the Warlord one day her eyes went wide with a gasp. "Could I?!" she questioned with wonder. She had never considered the possibility! She had never thought about anyone being the Warlord other than him! "But you're gonna be the Warlord forever, right, grandpa? Why would I be the Warlord?" she asked with a tip of her head. "You're silly, grandpa. I can't be the Warlord cause you're the Warlord! But I'll be big and strong and I'll help protect the pack just like daddy!" She nodded resolutely, the decision set in stone. "Now teach me how you use the sap stuff!"

"Wynter Carpathius"