I bid ye farewell

[Slaying the Dreamer]

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Slaying the Dreamer

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Slay didn't recognize the howl when he first heard it, but as he padded along the snow towards the girls, he caught the scent and it all made sense. Flayra, the quiet white pup with the covered arm, was growing up; she had shifted, gathered her belongings, and apparently made a very important decision. He had never had the opportunity to speak much to the young girl; he liked youngsters, but he had been distracted this past moon, and Flay had been said to prefer her own company. As he drew to a halt, standing before the two werewolves, Slay offered a friendly smile, letting his ebony-dipped tail wave behind him. He was the only one still on all fours, but he was used to all the shifters now, and it did not bother him for the youths to be taller. "Everyone who comes to this land eventually faces this decision - is this the place where I live my life out, or will I try my luck elsewhere? I see you've already come to your conclusion." His deep voice rumbled pleasantly, but there was a little sadness in his ice-pale eyes. He had liked Flayra better than Svara, if only for her politeness, but it seemed as though he and the other packmates were stuck with the bad-mouthed teenager. "If you're certain this is what you want... then I'll let my mate Cercelee know, and I'll bid you good fortune on your way." I've got soul but I'm not a soldier

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