Stavanger Bay I have no home; I make awareness my dwelling.

The white wolf was a buzzing gnat in the face of an already agitated monster; the beast swung his head away from the abandoned body of the woman and caught his assailant's bites with parries of his own teeth, but he did not target them or cause further damage than what was necessary. The battle was short—Tetsubo had stepped away from the slumbering body upon the sand as he had defended himself, and now turned to regard the oncoming pale flash that came to intercept. Another challenger? His purpose had been outlined to both previous wolves, and his patience was nearing a limit.

But this newcomer was, shockingly, familiar. The voice tore across the sand and upon hearing it, Tetsubo's actions lurched and lulled, and he pivoted to regard Smokestep as if no harm had been done, like nothing had ever happened. When Nox spoke there wasn't even a tremble of an ear to indicate Tetsubo heard them. He had found his Cairn, and so he could move on.

The master sends me to you, Cairn, so I may serve. He states this factually, mechanically, as if it is the most obvious of things—and truly there is no reason for Tetsubo to leave his master's side for any reason except for a direct order. He elucidates a moment later with a bow to his massive head, I am to be bushido to you, as is ordered. He resumed his hulking posture after that point and fixed his dulled gaze upon the boy expectantly. There was no room for compromise.
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