Shadewood I'm not big on social graces

Quite a while had passed by since he the pleasure of indulging in just casual conversation. Too much had gone by to where he hadn’t time nor others to speak with other than on military work that needed to be adjusted or their next plans for these coming seasons. He was alone, despite being in a castle of woods stuffed to the brim with other wolves.

It was maddening.

However, a certain voice called from across the borders, a nonchalant but respectful call of his name. Or his alias, rather- none other knew his title but his Empress. 

A busy man, but never turning down an ally. Colt was with the Firebirds still, right? Not the Melonii?

Coming up to the handsomely structured dad-to-be, Cry has changed a slight bit. Where he was once athletic, bull began to form, muscle melding into the thickening bones where he worked tirelessly to enhance his fighting techniques with @Reiner. It was never ending, but worth it, he mused as he approached the dark timbered brown male before his threshold. 

“It’s been a minute- can’t say I’m mad at you. My paws have been filled.” Stepping over the boundaries, he joined Colt on neutral ground, a token of good for good as the swarthy timbercoat hadn’t done any disrespect to him, nor his home. 

“How’s it been, Colt?”