The Warlord had checked in occasionally with their patient over the last few days. It felt strange having another pack’s wolf in his midst. Every wolf he had ever brought back, he had done so with the intention of claiming. Roan, when he had been injured, had traded healing for time in Sirius’s service. Time that had become permanent once he had fallen in love with the Warlords sister. Cairo was different, and perhaps that was a good thing. Long had he kept himself separate from the other packs in this world. He wanted no ties to them, no alliances. But perhaps they could build something else. An understanding, for example. There was the faint possibility that they could work together in events like the festival Aurielle had once spoken to him of. With this in mind, he went seeking the injured wolf, knocking briskly against Io’s cottage door, before letting himself into her healer section. He would never dream of intruding upon her private spaces without her there. He found the young man, nestled in furs Io had laid him on. “Cairo, how are you doing? Feel up for a short ride in the cart? I imagine you must be sick of these walls by now” he remembered his own time laid up with a broken limb. He had been insufferable. "Speech"

He’d admittedly been doodling in the furs, swiping the hairs against the grain and drawing designs the opposite way. Granted, he had to use his nose. With broken legs on one side, he was essentially laid out on his good side to avoid putting pressure on the broken legs. He wondered if there was any way he could procure some pig-skin parchment and ink, with a stick to scribe with. While writing and marks weren’t that new, Aurielle had begun working out an alphabet, and he’d had a few weeks to learn the symbols and runes before he’d made a fateful decision to go to the temple. It was a way to pass the time and practice his scribe-work, without risking self-injury. He ignored the healer for the most part unless she was directly treating him. He didn’t wish to pry into her personal life. He had set it firmly in his head that he wouldn’t take anything he learned from observations here home. Aurielle wouldn’t expect it of him, and she wouldn’t use such an underpawed method to gain information on other packs. He was one of the few who knew the Shadow Circle’s true purpose, since, as a wolf training to become Sentinel, that was part of the pack he would need to know of. He was not part of that Circle, but he would be taking reports from them come the time they actually had members in that Circle. He studied the vague rune in the fur, then swiped his face over it, clearing the fur of all mark before his head lifted at the knock. He gave a dry smile as Sirius showed himself. The Warlord poked his nose in from time to time, though this was the first time he’d offered to take the young Valhallan beyond the walls of the cottage. Cairo digested the offer, contemplating the possible meanings behind it. It was a huge gesture to give a foreigner a chance to see the interior of one’s territory. Whether it was meant as a sort of offer of trust, or that he’d be sworn upon his life to never speak of what he saw there remained to be seen, but Cai had to admit, the Warlord was right. He hadn’t complained even once since his waking, taking any medication and treatment from Iolaire as they came, dutifully pleasant and contrite. Cairo grinned ruefully up – way up – at Sirius, chuckling carefully, “I’m alright. Healing takes time, but I’m happy to make Iolaire’s job easier on her. But… I’ll accept that offer.” He shifted carefully to one elbow on his good side, one ear tilting back to analyze his condition. It took some doing, but eventually he was sitting upright for possibly the first time since he’d woken up from the knock on the head. His back leg was thrust ridiculously out to one side in its splint and in front of him, but he was visibly pleased with the results of his effort. He’d need help otherwise, but it was good to move a bit. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

“It does indeed” he agreed dryly, grimacing at his own memory of a broken leg - and that had been only one - The healing process had been long and painful. Both for him, and anyone who had had to suffer him. Io had seen the worst of it, and she had weathered him. Loving sister that she was. He trusted none other with his healing body as he did her. Sirius moved closer to Cairo at the younger wolf's agreement. Watching as he managed to pull himself awkwardly pull himself to his two good feet. Sirius conveyed him for a moment with a frown. He wasn’t as small as the majority of wolves he was accustomed to. He pressed himself gently against the tawny wolf's side, offering the support of his weight, as he helped Cairo hobble to the cart. The cart itself had been converted to a sled by Io for winter use, so there was no high reach for the poor injured wolf to step into. Sirius aided him in getting onto the padded floor, before popping back into the cottage. Returning with a few rolled up furs, he propped them gently under the injured limbs, so they would not move about too much as the sled moved. “Feel secure?” he checked with the man, before strapping himself into the front with the ropes. He moved them along at a careful pace over the snowy floor, and led them down towards the beach. He took a fairly direct route, passing through the communal space. With the firepit, now sheltered from the snow, and gently smouldering. Past the towering Obelisk with the pack rules chisels into its side, and a few dens. Some taken, others empty. This he didn’t mind Cairo seeing, this did not show their numbers or defences. So long as he was at the reins, he could somewhat control how much the man saw. They hit the beach, far from the training rings, though parts of the barracks could be seen from here. He stopped them near the water;s edge, clear of any rippling tides. “This is one of my favourite places to stop and remember the views” he explained, untying himself, and seating his bulk beside the sled. "Speech"

From the way Sirius agreed, the older wolf must have experienced broken bones at some point. Cai flashed a lopsided grin, then, as the larger male came to assist, he doggedly – and carefully – hobbled toward the light of day, setting the back good foot first before making the next step with the front good one. Even with the high-level pain medication, he could still feel little prods and pokes of pain here and there. It was good to know his limit, though the threshold would have been much lower without it. He was glad to settle onto the sled, and nodded once he was settled. “All good.” He took as deep a breath as he dared. It wasn’t Valhallan air, but it was fresh. He let his chin rest on a rolled fur, content to watch the scenery stroll by at a very big wolf’s pace. He did wonder to himself whether he’d be set out to heal more beyond the Armadan border in a hut somewhere—he wouldn’t say no to the willows he’d met Lia in. As long as he had the pain killing herbs withing reach, food, and water, he figured he’d be okay if it came to it. He looked up, eyes having lowered to the ground gliding past, pockmarked with many paw prints, some huge, some tiny, some in between, when Sirius drew to a halt and spoke about the spot. He shifted slightly for a better look, gazing out to the sea with a half-smile. “It’s a pleasing view.” Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Sirius nodded slowly, his eyes still on the scene beyond. He knew little of the wolf he had welcomed into his home. He had done so because there were little other alternatives for Cairo, and because he knew Malalia called this man friend. What did his Reaper see in this wolf? That he was someone to trust with her friendship. A friendship that had convinced Sirius to extend the offer of hospitality, and allow a stranger into the heart of all he loved. He wished to know more about this Cairo, who likely would be here for some weeks to come. What would he do with the information he gleaned in his time here? Would he be a threat to the lives Sirius loved? He did not think the man a threat, with his pleasantries and polite manner, but looks could be deceiving. The Warlord did not trust easily. He drew a paw through the course sand, eyes roaming to the Cypress trees that occasionally dotted the shoreline. “I was born far beyond these shores, I came here following friendship, a few years back.” he explained to the man, giving a way a small piece of his past with those words. He glanced back towards Cairo then “Your Aurielle’s apprentice, in fighting?” "Speech"

If he could have read Sirius’ thoughts, Cairo wouldn’t have been surprised in the least. It was part of being an alpha to wonder at every move another made—was it a threat, was it genuine? There were intricate dances of politics, diplomacies, ambassadors. Never allowing yourself to portray your pack as weak or spineless. Cairo would become part of that dance himself once he achieved Sentinel as he hoped. For a wolf as – to be blunt – paranoid as Sirius, it must be one hell of a headache, always wondering what angle another alpha was playing—even when there was truly no angle there. Aurielle was shrewd. She never pushed for an alliance if it was unwanted. Valhalla was, for the most part, neutral unless trifled with. The pack had seen off its fair share of trouble. He tipped his head to gaze at Sirius as the Warlord let go a sliver of his origins. “I think that’s the best reason to go anywhere. For love, for a friend.” He met Sirius’ glance squarely, nodding. “I am. Really I take any learning I can where I can get it. I’m training to become the primary beta of Valhalla. I was beginning to think I might achieve it by my fourth year but—“ He smiled ruefully with a nod at his legs “I may be set back quite a bit. I’ll just have to work even harder once I’m back on my feet without splints.” He rested his chin on the fur roll with a hum as he added, “I’m also a hunter, though I only finally decided that was what I wanted to be aside from a warrior last season. I felt it was the best way to serve my pack.” Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

The feel of the sand beneath his paws, and the scent of the salt that permeated the breeze reminded him of what had become of his home. Of the ruins they had left behind, in the wake of drought and ruin. He had watched a mighty empire crumble, as its rulers failed to protect their people, or themselves. That failure had just about gotten the Warlord killed. Had almost ended the life of his Princess. His life had changed so much since those early days, he had founded the Armada, and watched it flourish. He spent much of his time with the people, ensuring their wellbeing. He would not let this family he had built fall to ruin. His trust would never be easy to win, not so long as they counted on him to keep them safe. Turning his eyes back to the injured wolf, he would listen to the information he easily gave. Perhaps he sensed Seer’s desire to learn more. The man had drive, inspiring him to reach for Beta, to learn to hunt to add to his packs stores. “All noble aspirations.” he observed quietly. The Warlord was silent a moment longer. “And your friendship with my daughter?” "Speech"

Cai glanced up toward the Warlord as the man digested his words. The observation was taken with a light smile. He sure hoped they were. If wanting to serve his pack to the best of his ability meant he was selfish, what was the world coming to? But if being selfish meant his pack and family, and future mate and children had a safe, prosperous future, then so be it. His head cocked slightly in thought at the next question. It was definitely the “Dad” kind of question posed to a male friend of a girl, he supposed, though he had no idea what it was like to have a father asking questions like that of her sisters’ friends… did they even have any male friends? He supposed Artur would take it upon himself to terrify possible boyfriends… were they really that old now? They would be three next season. “I met her in the willows just beyond your border. I’d just been promoted, up at that temple you met me in, as a matter of fact. I decided to wander further east before going home—maybe I’d run into more of my cousins. Instead I met Lia. You ever have a friendship where things just … clicked? She sparred with me, and I gave her a little lesson about fighting against a wolf with armor like mine. Then we hunted a young buck. She’d a good huntress. I got a hoof in the thigh and she poulticed it up for me” A smile crossed his features as he retold the night. Teaching her how to skin a deer, how to cut strips of meat with the bear claws on his bracers, and how to dry it, and teaching her a song. Of the conversation about brothers, he said very little. His issues with Artur were his own problem, and he didn’t desire to show any cracks in Valhalla’s unity to an alpha. “It’s easy to open up to her. I have a male best friend, but Lia is easily the best female friend I have. She’s strong, and I get the sense that she’s been through a great deal before she came to the Armada, though I won’t pry into her past before she’s ready to tell it herself. That should be her choice. But she’s given little pieces. She’s a free spirit, and caring.” His eyes shifted toward the ocean, suddenly serious as he said, “I don’t want to ever have to fight her for real. Maybe it’s a weakness, but that is one reason among many other, more political ones that I hope that Valhalla and the Empire of Ashen never go to war one day.” He chortled softly as he added, "I'll admit she's helped me stay a lot more sane than I would have been these past few days. The visits give me a distraction and good conversation." Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think

He would go on to explain the first meeting he had had with Malalia, how they had spared and learned and laughed. He could see the smile in the man's face as he spoke of his daughter, hear the feelings and fondness in his tone and words. He truly cared about Malalia. Sirius had also heard a little about her past himself, and knew it had been a difficult one. He had offered her a new start here in the Armada. Family, friendships, something to aspire to. He loved Malalia like a daughter, and wanted her to succeed in the world. And there was the heart of it, spoken by Cairo himself. It created a conflict of interest, this friendship between the two. She had visited her friend often well he had remained in the healers den, and he had seen the way the two of them looked at each other. Was it only friendship? Troubled, his gaze moved back to the ocean. Malalia was his Reaper, the highest ranked wolf in the pack beside himself and his Queen. What if trouble did one day reach between Valhalla and the Armada? Where would the ties of these two wolves lie? “She is quite a wolf. She rose to Reaper by her own merits in the Armada. Every warrior in my pack had equal opportunity, and she rose the highest” he said with pride. "Speech"

As much as Cairo cared for Lia, he was still young enough to not realize that the level of care went just beyond the usual bounds of friendship. It was the kind of bond that could be strengthened with time. With the current case, Lia was a yearling, and Cairo had been well taught not to even consider one so young. It hadn’t even occurred to him, yet, what possibilities there were there. He was more focused on getting to his goal in life. His actual thoughts were innocently proud of the girl’s achievements. Perhaps it would prove too much, too soon for the girl, but she was as determined as her young wolverine friend, and he had no doubt that she’d battle through the adversities she’d encounter in her life and come out stronger than ever. No matter who you were, from the highest born prince to the most common of wolf, hardship of one sort or another would be encountered. “I’m proud of her. Even when she finds something she hasn’t learned, she buckles down and learns it without pouting about what she doesn’t know. I hope she pursues her healing training as well. She’s mature for her age. I’ve no doubt she’ll master life, whatever paths she follows in it. If she’s allowed to spread her wings and fly, she’ll be formidable.” He paused, thoughtfully, mind hanging on the notion of healing. He wanted to be of some use while he was laid up. “Is there any way I could be used as a training opportunity for the Armadan healers? For healing severe wounds and breaks? It’s not like I can hunt for my board, or fight right now, but I can’t abide not being useful in some manner until I'm well enough to get out of your fur.” Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think