I will admit that I never took him to be a warrior. He was always much more...gentle than those that often seek such a path. Though, I suppose even a wolf like Nari can be gentle despite her prowess. Still, I am curious as to what has created such a change within him. In time, I'm sure that reason will surface but for now, I must simply embrace whatever it might be: Glorall needs warriors, defenders, those capable of preventing the incidence with Moteuh from ever reoccuring.

Fall arrives first in Glorall, the ocean bringing the season to the shores earlier than those further within the mainland. The storms are less volatile, the air more pleasant; the sun no longer beats down but rather peeks out from behind the low clouds. It feels almost completely peaceful, a stark comparison to the wild heat of summer. As the sun rises and casts shades of red across the sky, I begin to seek him out, assured he will be somewhere near his sister's den.

When I find him, I give little more than a summoning bark before I charge for him. My head is low and yet I do not exert my usual display of hierarchy; instead, I come at him as an equal, my tail low and ears back. It is a test and I make it clear to him before I launch myself at him; I aim to jab my muzzle hard into the side of his neck, slamming my shoulder into his own in an effort to shove him aside. It is enough to begin testing the waters, to learn what it is he may already know. If I jab into his neck, I will do little more than part my teeth just enough to pull away a tuft of fur, a small marker of that failure. If he dodges, then I will simply reel back, shoving backwards and away from him as I await his retaliation.