Dragoncrest Cliffs i thought i was different but it seems i’m just the same

*sneaks into the party*

Artaax was a patient hunter. He'd heard the commander's call, of course, and had instantly abandoned what he'd been doing to answer it. He had flown through the trees and along the cliffs to bring himself onto the scene, but then he had stopped out of sight just behind the Rusalkans (lol), and the wait had begun.

The wolves approached one another with snarls and flashing teeth. He felt anger broiling in his chest at every one of them for trespassing on Drageda's sacred lands. It grew with each attack made on his pack, but still he waited until the super hot witch woman cried to her companions to abandon this attempt. Then, he flew.

While he'd waited, he had watched. He'd looked at each of their number and sized them out, trying to determine which was the most likely to be trouble. The two women in the forefront were deemed to be the most problematic, but they had made the mistake of attacking the commander. They were totally screwed. She didn't need him.

That left some pathetic looking puppies and a man covered in rough fur, which spoke of scars beneath. They only looked like teeny tiny little puppies in his head, of course, but that didn't matter. Artaax had chosen his mark - the one who had clearly seen a fight before and had been chosen to guard their rear (he figured). Plus, he's Niamh's brother and I'm the devil. And so Artaax sprinted, aiming to smash into @Firefly like freight train.