Wheeling Gull Isle If you can’t beat ‘em

The dark coated wolf looked healthy enough, damp from the swim, and respectful of the claim limits to the point of not crossing any invisible lines. Mou looked back over his shoulder with some reluctance, the defunct collar around his neck feeling uncomfortable and tight. Aiolos arrives, asking him if he will fight. Mou's days of fighting are behind him; he wants to say no, and thinks of Maegi, of his family.

He will do what is required. If that means lying, fighting, even killing - he will do what he must to protect what he has.

Taking a breath, he emerges from the grove of trees and ambles closer. His gait is steady, with each stride reaching far. What Mou lacked in physical strength he more than made up for in dimension - tall and lithe, broad-shouldered. When he was closer he could see similarities between what he knew of himself and the swarthy stranger.

It was the eyes that really got him. He knew immediately that this was a mistake, but he had to appear in control. It had been a lifetime since Mou had seen his brother but he could not deny how much Phox resembled Towhee, or himself.