Northstar Vale Wuthering

Warbone, he was called, and was First Among Wolves. Not herra. Dag didn't miss that, though he was supposedly invited to address the man in his own tongue. The young male dismissed this invitation. If the administration didn't like it, he wouldn't force it upon them. Would Saena like it better? he wondered, and then wondered what Saena was like beyond their title.

He did not have long to linger on such topics. Warbone had other things on his mind - things that Dag had no wish to keep him from. And, truth be told, "Work sounds really good, right now," said Dag, something like relief lacing his voice.

The lightening of the First Wolf's mood led to a lightening in Day's own, and he stepped deeper into their new lands with a feeling like stepping into a river and feeling dirt wash away from his pelt. Already, he felt lighter, freer. For the first time since getting here, it seemed, he was doing something for himself - even if it looked an awful lot like him doing something for Warbone, or Warbone doing something for him.

"Where do we start?" he asked, turning to his fellow with ears at attention and a happily-wagging tail.