the hand of the king
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This is backdated to April 4th. The three wolves involved are Saule, Sindri, and Vilis. Max will be engaging and killing Vilis; I would suggested someone REALLY experienced deal with Saule, as she is super hardcore. :|



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It was not uncommon for Max to rise before dawn, as he did nearly every day. He hunted at this time, favoring the night to help blend his blinding pelt in ways the sun could not. Unfortunately, he had not been successful. This soured his mood severely and led him to the mansion, trailing into the back door of the kitchen. Two legged, he began rooting through the pantry that had served as their food storage.

“Not even light out and tahyo come lookin’ for food,” a familiar voice drawled behind him. Max frowned and turned. While Rémy was among his closest friends, the older dog had a habit of rubbing him the wrong way. Still, Max put up with it well enough—though his poor mood produced a toothy snarl.

“You have any of that gumbo left?”

“Oh yeah,” the Cajun drawled on, and gave the Hastati a gentle shove. “Here, you git me two of dem dere bowls and we eat what’s left of it.”

Grumbling, the pale coydog did as he was bid. Rémy produced a large metal pot, smelling strongly of spice and various meats, and this pleased the Hastati well enough. A heaping pile of seafood, river-catch, and chunks of venison were put into his bowl. The two ate together, speaking briefly of the oddities of this approaching battle.

“I tell you,” Rémy went on, licking his chops. “If one of ‘em comes, dey all come next.”

“So you think there’s more too.”

“’Course dere is. Ain’t no two men gonna come unless dey got friends.”

As if to echo this, a sharp cry rose from beyond the fence. Max jerked to his feet. Ezekiel’s command was a singular one, and he felt dread sink into his gut. Rémy cursed and moved towards the door. His strange speech was almost impossible to understand, but he turned to the young warrior sharply. “Go, I ain’t lettin’ nobody git in here.”

In a flash, Max rushed out into the pre-dawn light. He was armed only with what he had managed to grab; the bow and arrows hanging from his side and a hatchet yanked from the wood pile in the kitchen. He hurried to the woods, hair all on end and eyes blazing.

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