Blacktail Deer Plateau Roman cavalry choirs are singing

:x sorry that he's kind of all doom and gloom

Six in all, small but close. An odd nostalgia overtook the man, or perhaps a sense of deja vu. Excluding the pups, the Sveijarn's cohort had been near that size when Malachi had followed their family to Duskfire. The number had been near the same when they had gathered to declare war against the wolves of the sea. Yet they surely had not been blessed, and a part of Malachi wondered how long this man's peace would last. He hoped longer than Duskfire's, and a secret part of him envied the thought.

"Hmm," came the sum of his reflections, no more than a wordless hum. His eyes gleamed with interest, but he couldn't shake the cynical conviction it was only a matter of time until calamity struck these wolves, too. What was strong today would be dust tomorrow: so it had gone, and so it would always be. "Is it you who leads them?"