The Warlord was finally getting the last of his pieces together. Retiring was no easy thing for him to consider, but the time had well come. Perhaps it had even come and gone, but he was a stubborn old fool. He had spoken already to Basilisk, but he had a few words to speak to Hazel as well. The pack was going to his Grandson, but he knew who would be standing at his side.

He made his way to the Obelisk, and raised his head to howl to the once orphan, and now proud wolf of the Armada. She had become such a fine wolf, and he knew that she would do well by this pack that he had put his life into.


"Speech"

Art by Salt

The news had come from Basilisk, instead of Sirius. The conversation with Bas still fresh in her mind, still stinging more than she'd like, though she'd forgiven him. She'd forgiven him, and she was moving on. There were more than enough things to be stressed about, as it was. Still, the call from the Warlord was one Hazel anticipated all the same.

A warm, picturesque, late summer day hung around their shoulders. She couldn't have chosen a prettier one. Sirius's call draws her to the Obelisk, prompt and bright-eyed. He looks all the same as he always has, but... old. Old, too. Hazel's smile is light, relaxed, as her gaze lands on the Warlord. Tail wagging loosely at her haunches, the girl approaches. "Sir," she gives a nod, a smile.
"Speech"

The Warlord smiled at Hazel as the red toned girl arrived at the Obelisk. He gently leaned forward and kissed her brow, as he often did for his own children. He had had a hand in raising her, though Halo had done the lion's share.

“Thank you for coming Hazel, we have a few things to discuss” He started, and because he had already spoken to his Grandson, he suspected she would already have some idea what this was about.” Has Basilisk spoken with you yet? I intend to retire soon, and we should speak of how that will look for yourself, and for the pack” he explained evenly. The ageing lines of his face crinkled a little as he smiled at her.

A kiss pressed to her brow, a light smile on her face. The Warlord had taken her up, he'd trained her, he'd done a lot of the hard work. The fondness is something she won't pass up, she won't rebuke. A lot had come from Halo, but he'd mentored her.

It was a conversation she'd anticipated. Hazel's expression is drawn-- a little wistful, a little grim. It's hard for her to feel things, especially like this. It's hard for her to process feelings. It leads to a simple, rough nod, and the girl trying to conceal the cracking of her voice. She feels... small, again. When Bas had brought up Sirius retiring, Hazel had other concerns on her mind. To hear the old man say it himself? Now it feels real. It feels real, and Hazel's head spins.

She's the same little girl that looked up at him, hiding behind Bas. Sneaking into their cupboards. "He mentioned it," the words are soft, a murmur. Hazel could fight to conceal the emotion, for now. There was work to do. "What do you need from me?" In earnest, she asks.
"Speech"

He smiled down at the grown wolf before him. Lately, he was finding himself remembering the wolves as he had first seen them. How small she had been, how timid. Abandoned by a family that never deserved her. How things had changed around them. He would never have guessed she would be the one to kill her father. But she had done so, faced against the experience and cunning of an older wolf, and she had won. There was something fierce that lived inside of Hazel, a force that could not be denied.

“I intend to pass the pack on very soon, and then head to the Hollows. You both deserve the respect of finding your own style of leadership without me breathing down your neck.” and he knew if he stayed, that he would not be able to keep himself from butting heads with them. He loved the Armada, but he was old, too old. He had to do this.

“I need you to be who you’ve already proven yourself to be. A force to be reckoned with. Your more worldly than Basilisk, and he’s going to need that.”


"Speech"

Art by Salt

He would go to the Hallows after passing things over, turning the thought over in her head for a long moment. It made sense, but it made her nervous all the same. He'd go away and let them find their own way... but then, what if they needed him? What if they needed him, and he was half a world away. Hazel's chest tightened for a moment, trying to untangle personal feelings and thoughts about the pack. Aren't then one in the same these days?

Hazel tried to steady herself, looking to the old man with a little nod. "I'll make you proud, I promise." The words are quiet, gaze doing its best not to go misty around the edges. Fuck, why did her chest ache? Why did her shoulders hurt? Even though she'd known it was coming, it hurts. Hazel bit back the self doubt as it bubbled up in her chest.
"Speech"

“I have no doubts” The Warlord said gently, his smile turning softer, and crinkling at the edges. He could see it in her, the worry for the future and the weight that would soon be on their shoulders. But perhaps it was more than that, as well. She had been abandoned by her family once before. Would it feel like he was doing the same, now?

He reached over, and wrapped his arms about her shoulders, pulling her close as he kissed her brow. “Your family, Hazel. my family, and I’ll be back. It’ll only be for a little while. This way, whatever you and Bas make of the pack, people can say that you earned it in your own right.”


"Speech"

Art by Salt