Ravensblood Forest only a fool would make martyrs from heathens

yes!! summer classes out of the way so my free time is back. thank you for the link!

Renard cocked their head back in reply, barely catching a glimpse of the other wolfdog out of the corner of their eye. Almost an edge in his words, there. Donovan might have shared his own story, and Renard could even appreciate the purpose behind it, but, well, nothing like keeping your cards close to your chest. A spar didn’t require anything so much as the presence of teeth and the proof you knew how to use them.

They huffed a laugh. “Yes, I’d expect.” Suppose it depended on Donovan’s personal leadership style how on the nose trees dripping blood was to the pack he was forming here. He’d had enough of an edge to him and his voice talking about his past that Renard was inclined to believe this would suit well enough – and here, the edge crept right back to his voice as he bumped their shoulder.

Renard returned the gesture with the knife-flash of a smile.

The trail wore on until they reached the clearing; devoid of the towering trees and much of the brush, nothing more than a single, gnarled trunk that looked as though it had seen years beyond counting.

“An interesting choice.” Renard stepped languidly forwards as Donovan leapt into the branches, wound his way higher up, and smiled again. “I hope this isn't practice to climb the rest of the trees in this forest. Might be a bit beyond my skills.”