The abundance of spring dried up faster than Tithe had anticipated. It was not only the extreme heat that had him panting, it was his fear that his family was going to suffer from the twists of fate. Destiny, it seemed, was cruel and tricky. He had decided to attempt to speak to the wolves of Diveen, it was the one pack he had not formed ties with one way or another, they would not necessarily know his face, nor his past. The catch was, it had been where Daenerys had stayed while Roman and he had ruled. It was worth the effort though. To provide safety and security for his Imprint and his children. If he would have once sworn his life to the protection of his pack, he happily give so much more for his family.

He had promised Pandora he would teach their sons to hunt once they were old enough. Though prey had grown scarce, he had kept his word. Today, however, he was going to take Bazyl on a completely different kind of mission. Tithe figured they were old enough already to learn the ways of speaking to others, and respecting those around him. He was not going to be a neglectful father in any way.

Tithe’s copper coated son padded beside his father. The usual tendencies of childhood did not seem to grip the young boy. He strode beside the iron knight with a sense of duty, a page at the heels of his tutor. His innocence was still apparent with a snaps of brittle grass around them, occasionally causing him to pause and investigate with his various senses before scampering to return to Tithe’s side.

Where are we going, father? The son asked, a little too formally.

Tithe glanced at him, his nose working uncertainly. There was something about this heat that made him nervous, alert. Diveen, a packland on the border of the forests and fields. But we must approach slowly, sometimes packs do not appreciate it when non-pack wolves get too close.

The adult’s attention drifted off again, but so did Bazyl’s. He halted in his tracks, nose lifted to the air. What is that smell?

Tithe’s head immediately snapped up. Smoke had started to wisp in the air around them. The knight looked into the distance and saw flames begin to reach toward the skies. Fear gripped him, knowing the fire could reach far and was unstoppable when is truly started. Come on. He urged to his son, quickening his pace to avoid the sparking flames.

Too fast the smoke filled the air, stealing sight from their eyes and filling their lungs. Tithe tried to keep his body low to avoid much of the smoke, but still it filled him, disorienting him until he was completely turned around. Growling to himself, he turned to what he hoped was the direction of the river. It might have been drier than usual, but still the damp could protect them.

Dad, I’m scared… Bazyl whimpered, voicing Tithe’s own fear. Tithe looked at the mirrored gaze of his son and picked him up. He was getting big, but not to big for this. With another look around, he set off down a trail, trying to find his way though every sense was quickly beginning to fail him.