Sleeping Dragon pulse

It'd been a different time and practically a different life, so it was not always easy to compare his hierarchical rises to each other beyond the basics.. yet he still caught the parallels now and then when he wasn't looking. Here, he'd been dedicated since early on because he'd had nothing else, despite not being a wolf steeped in the culture of their commander beforehand. Stavern Rise had plucked him fresh from being a roving vagabond lacking restraint and given him a warm, comfortable welcome -- and a family -- to inspire him. Different circumstances, each book-ending the next.

Beta, or Wocha.. both parts of his mark on history here, there, or wherever it may spread to. "I know," he replied with a short chuff. He leaned against her, happy with the shared warmth. "I know there is," he said, reaching to preen her fur behind her ears. He had a feeling she knew it too. He could take pride in what he had managed to have: this. "Which is not to say I feel anything about this lacks at all," as right now, he could treasure this as he moved his teeth slowly over her pale nape. He was plenty content. Simple enough but he's aware of.. everything, implications and all. He'd come here originally without a clear plan -- no real, true desires besides just a next meal, survive, and something to do that wasn't hopelessly miserable. Once the Rise fell, the family had been scattered for their best interests, and he'd lost his brother in the ugliest defeat the pair had ever seen. Nothing had seemed right after he'd believed they should have both died, too. Slowly, though, that wasn't quite so true anymore. The Dragon had been good to him already so far.