Redsand Canyon She said she needs proof

Roll here!

He listens to her speak and agrees with just about everything she has to say. Thick black ears cupped towards her, intently listening. A warrior needs a war. He couldn’t agree with her more. Then she speaks of her previous pack being pacifists — surely one of those packs that reply of kissing ass to keep the peace. Like Yuèlóng. He vaguely things. Maybe Seelie Court. He ponders again.

Then once sentence after another Donovan learns more of the silvery pelted shewolf. He’s glad she’s opening up to him, speaking of why she left her previous pack. The leader prioritizing his children instead of the entire pack he’s supposed to be leading. That’s why Donovan doesn’t plan on having pups for a long, long while.

He gives a curt smile, a genuinely friendly one. “I too have been born into the ways of the warrior. We’re glad to have you Praim, you’re going to be a fine asset to the team. I’m honored to have you.” He hums with a short bow of his head.

Then his rather sweet smile turns into something more challenging. “Now show me why they call you the Commander of Death. I don’t think I recall it from last time we spared.” He teases readying himself into a fighting stance.

After she confirms, or even if she denies, he’ll rush forward and barrel into her. Shoving a well muscled shoulder into her own to set off her balance. Surely she’d get his drift and quickly reciprocate the spar. No way she’d turn one down.