Qeya River they fight like soldiers, they die like children

He moves on to some task he’s supposed to do, something someone instructed him, but the idea seems far too outlandish to be true. His enthusiasm stands out in a strange way but she shakes her head, trying to discourage him from a mistake. “Challenging me will not help you learn to fight,” she warns. Thuringwethil had time to recall the last time they’d seen each other; she’d taken him by surprise but he hadn’t been able to react at all. They had been times he could have made a move but he’d only retreated. Coming for a rematch would only win him more scars.

“Perhaps you should reconsider where you call home.” Why the suggestion crosses her lips, Thuringwethil isn’t sure. The only two wolves to talk about him had been negative and the young leader doesn’t quite understand their dynamic. Even if her wolves had made a mistake, her love would not falter for them. Esaro’s ignorance had hurt him but she doesn’t put the blame on him. She has no idea if he deserves what he’s been dealt but the hurt in his eyes is clear, despite his attempt at a confident posture.