Phoenix Maplewood we drew our heavy revolvers and exultantly killed the gods

They do not have to wait long before another appears, breaking through the tree line and in their direction. She keeps a relaxed posture and a little distance from half the group so they appear less a threat (or at least make the effort to). The introduction begins and, to no surprise, questioning their presence. Before she gets a chance to speak, however, Vercingetorix breaks position and interrupts before she has a chance to respond. Dark eyes narrow as she turns to look at him, tightening her jaw as anger flames against the inside of her ribcage.

Thuringwethil turns quickly and closes the distance only to snap at his face, hoping to shuffle him back a few feet and out of mind.

She turns back to the woman—Aviana—to notice the arrival of a second wolf. Thuringwethil clears her throat and doesn’t give her guard a second look.

“My name is Thuringwethil, Commander of Drageda. This,” she pauses and gestures to the idiot, “is Vercingetorix. Ephraim and Robin.” She gestures the other two behind her respectively before settling on Aviana, only assessing the other from her peripheral. “We are returning home from a mission and passing through old stomping grounds. We used to live on Sleeping Dragon—” she gestures the way they came—“and I had not been back since we’d relocated. I was curious with nostalgia to come through on our way home. What pack is this? It had been vacant before.”

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