Emberflame Ridge Aftershock

He nodded, one in the same. He personally held no hard feelings over the way he had left Sleeping Dragon, but it was intuitive for him to assume that the raven queen wouldn't have appreciated his wordless departure. That being said, he wasn't a wolf that used words in disagreements, and because he had zero desire to ever lay jaws on Thuringwethil, his abandonment had been a prettier choice by comparison. His image was tarnished, but this mattered very little to Warbone. Even if he was a deserter, he could not be called useless or even a coward. His choice had been out of respect, more than anything. Respect for her and what she had built— he would leave her to it— and it seemed that her influence had not been missed on young Wildfire. His tail wagged faintly at some distant thought of them individually and then aside, but his train of thought moved on quickly.

"The right of a sickened— if not dying— wolf, and her right to keep a rank she could not defend. My poor timing was not appreciated, but I am not a male made of subtly you must understand, and instead of regarding me levelly, she threatened me. Rather than battle with her over a difference of opinion, I chose to no longer follow her and the choices she made that I did not agree with." He wasn't too concerned with what Wildfire made of it, or if he seemed ignorant to her, somehow, but he blinked at her regardless: searching. "She is a stunning wolf in her own right, but aside from our only verbal disagreement, she made other questionable decisions in my time there that withdrew my trust of her." Warbone could respect the girl, but not follow. Not when they differed so vastly on a fundamental level.

She wanted a coalition beneath her; a mass shield around her specifically. He just wanted a comfortable life, made without the complication of favoritism and presumption. "When you find yourself ready, I think you would be well off there. And it is a sort of mountain aside... your favorite," his eyes gleamed, dryly humorous.