Warsaw had never forgotten about his offer to the young Zharko. It was an offer he hopes his son would keep once they take over the Inlet. He intends to talk to them shortly, but only once everyone was settled. The reason Warsaw had promised the young stallion such an honor as being one of the few stallions to be a stallion of rank in his herd was for the sole reason of how he treated his young daughter. Claymore was the last line he had from Neon and though the mare had not been a love of his, she had been a good companion.

Plus, the filly was fragile after being left behind by her mother and siblings. He sighs at the thought, but all these thoughts stem from the stallion approaching him now. Zharko has aged some months since he last saw him. It suited him to go along with his new title. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips as Zharko greets him. He boldly asks if his offer to be a second still stood. Warsaw is quiet for a few seconds as he studies the posture of the young stallion. Zharko holds himself with some pride, to which Warsaw was impressed. Someone without confidence was not cut out to be a second in Tinuvel.

”Of course,” he says with a nod of his grey head. He wonders if Zharko felt any more intimidated by him now that his body had been mauled by some wolves. The many scars he had from the war were now made tiny compared to the weird way some of his skin healed together from where wolves ripped it apart. Some of his skin was even still exposed and raw. ”You will be considered a sub-lead in the Inlet. You will be in charge of your own herd’s safety and expected to help with patrols to keep out intruders. You can claim your own mares and build your own family.

Speaking of which…” He thrusts his head up and calls for Claymore. The dappled grey filly comes shortly after her father’s call as she had not been too far away at the time. As soon as her eyes see Zharko she rushes him. There were many times in the Cove that Claymore wanted to rush into the Bay and find Zharko. She wanted to leapt into his dark chest and just cry. Cry out all of her tears. That was exactly what she did now. The filly digs her head into Zharko’s chest as she sobs. Warsaw chuckles. ”Claymore will be your first mare.”