Nova Peak Capulet

Warbone rippled slowly in the direction of the Woods. It was there he would begin his search for the nest of the queen, but he was in no rush to fulfill his promise. He had circled these lands and didn't find himself entirely impassive towards its residence. Already he had met several tolerable wolves and been engorged by the maddening scent of a female in heat. He thought he might stay longer, if only to flex his prime in the midst of a place teeming with opportunity— bodies to defeat and bodies to befriend. Warbone did not consider himself capable of being a "friend" (in the traditional sense of the word), but close enough was his ability to remain placid. Though that was a mercurial choice at best, and he mildly supposed that his nonhazardous behavior made him a friend to those not touched by his wrath. What more did friends need besides the secure knowledge they're not about to be brutalized?

His musings, uncommon but not unfamiliar, lead him absentmindedly onto the abandoned peak segregated from the ranges west of it. He explored, rather than hunted, turning his nose (and his super soaker) on every tree that interested him. In the motions of his natural study, he forgot all about wanting friends, and returned to his imperial demeanor.