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The horse meandered around idly behind him, a quick glance towards the confirmed this and Tony went back to speaking with the woman. She seemed to be quite the warrior, granted her sword was only a three foot one, much smaller than Tony' two handed claymore. It would do a lot of damage if it got wind of any body parts but it lack the speed and agility of a smaller sword. After all claymores were may for battles up in the Scottish highlands above anything else. 'Name's Tony' his Scottish draw spun in the air, a charming sort of roguishness to it. 'Ah come from Casa, ma Dad's the alpha'. The mention of his fathers high position within the new pack was always something of mention.
'Ah, th' Dreamers... Tha' was the pack I was born into. Savina's my aunt'. It was sad that the place no longer existed, because it seemed to have gone on forever and Tony was quite disorientated by the fact that it no longer existed tangibly. It would always exist in his heart though, no one could ever take the memories away from him. And he assumed his siblings, mother, father, aunt and cousins felt much the same about it.
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