Moonspear blood [m]oon rising

Finally. Finally, it seemed some sort of sense seemed to take hold in her mind. Something to take the heat out of the fire, to temper and cool her. He could work with a compromise; he could work with the notion that perhaps she would consider putting roots down elsewhere. It was a foreign concept to him that perhaps all things would go well, but his had never been that easy of a life no matter how he painted it. Dirge had not been blessed with the privileges proffered to her and her siblings—he did not expect such courtesies to be extended forever, no matter how deep the bond or blood went.

It was natural to worry to some extent, especially with what she asked, no, wanted. It was not just her that he worried for either, but himself. Charon may have seemed to keep him in good graces, or at least had in their last encounter, but would he think of him differently? Of course. He anticipated no more and no less of the wolf who resembled his grandfather. Ironclad armor and equally ironclad fists to rule with; a commanding attitude that was not necessarily unreasonable, but certainly set in a certain way. Amekaze was no pushover either he knew, but thought her to be more level-headed. She possessed the foresight of what could be, he thought. Hydra sought to shake that status quo and Dirge, for all his ambition, carried the foresight and memory to know how easily the world sought to misconstrue.

Yet the tension that lined his features began to slack, and with a shake of his coat he freed himself of it as she drew closer once again. ”You said it yourself—nothing is certain. But there is a certainty in keeping options open. Things will always change and we'll never know until it does,” he said gently, then moving to lighten the mood, ”and besides, why can't there be two mountains of your kin, hm? A single territory hardly makes an empire after all.”