Haunted Wood All we do is scream and fight

Ah.
This was why he liked Vanity. There was always going to be a fight she'd either offer or accept. She was the reason he was good as he was, the lesson on defense was one he remembered very well and had used to keep himself safe in fights a lot. His lips twitched up and there was a faint spark of light as he was already preparing himself to take a hit. Then came the inquiry, one that had him pause and lift his silver eyes to stare into hers for a moment. It sank deep into his bones and he felt his blood burn in response, an almost forgotten feeling. What does it mean to be Warlord?

"You never stop" he responded simply. She wouldn't know how tired he was. She wouldn't know that the war was likely to be the death of him or damned close. Young though he was Valour was smart enough to know that leading his pack to war with less experience than everyone he brought with him meant that he was going to be seen as easy picking. Being Warlord at his age meant he couldn't stop, any weakness was unnafordable especially in front of Vanity who was perhaps the most ruthless Nightwalker beneath himself. Only a second passed before he moved in beelining for her before making a quick dash to the left, using his forepaws to push hard off the ground and rear up over her on hinds to drape one foreleg over her back jaws parted and lunging for a bite to the back of her neck.