Hideaway Strath where secrets lie in the border fires

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The journey is over, the feral Commander realizes as they reach the Strath and do not venture beyond it. The feeling of settling washes over him and he draws in a deep breath of the foreign scents of the Strath as his casts his amber gaze around. It is well fortified, at least, easily defendable if they need to make a stand. Although, the con — he notes with a low grunt of disapproval — is that if they have to make a stand they will be cornered in their own pack lands. While it offers easy defenses it also traps them like cattle for slaughter. Boldy they rode, into the jaws of death, into the mouth of hell. Well, it was his job to ensure that if anyone was going to meet their death in this Strath it would not be the members of The Family it harbors. He only desires for this…all of it to be worth it. His deep, guttural voice does not join the others as their voices rise in tandem. Not at first, at least. He draws up alongside Conan, gaze finding August with her tail tucked between her legs, before he tips his head back and lets loose a howl that strikes against and then melds with that of The Family’s.

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