Rush Hour

It had been a while since he'd been in the battlefield looking for a spar. The alabaster king marched onto the lands, foxes in tow and his armor draped over his form. He didn't know who he'd be sparring with today, if anyone, but he would be prepared. He hadn't done well in the raid, but perhaps things would be different this time. And if not...well...at least he'd acknowledge that he really was getting old and that his time as a warrior and alpha were coming to an end. After all, nobody was in their prime nor invincible forever. And he felt he was coming to terms with that the last couple of months. He had a good run, assuming his getting older was the issue in a fight. He had the feeling he was getting slower, the man not the fighter he once was a year ago even. Funny how that happened though. How time snuck up on you without realizing it until things were shoved in your face enough to notice.

Tilting his head back, the alpha called for someone to join him in a spar.