10-28-2018, 04:37 AM
By the time the General found the resolve to follow the raiding party, they were already way ahead of him. Though he could use his normal methods of speeding up transportation, the stealth risk it posed was far too great. Instead, he tailed the tiny group on foot - their auras were clear enough that he could focus on them.
Something about Axle had always intrigued Morgan. It was something of an idle fascination; every time he saw the other canine, he was reminded of his own feral roots. That same sense of familiarity is what helped snap him out of his relative defeatism; as crude as Axle's speech had been back at camp, it made perfect sense.
Half a mask and a full set of ice armor formed around his body, dyed a deep red by the war paint he wore. Politics didn't matter, his reservations didn't matter, and his own health certainly didn't matter. What mattered was that he'd help get his people home as safely as he could.
...
Once Morgan was able to sense Delilah's damaged presence, he knew he had finally caught up to everyone else. Heading in a separate direction from where the rest of the group was, he took another route toward the kidnapped Tangler to provide further coverage. Surely the main group had a stealthier strategy to focus on, so the General figured providing a distraction and some brute force would benefit them most without express knowledge of their plan. The less heat the rest of the group had to take, the better things would turn out.
The leader bounded toward his destination, forming a pair of spears from the water left in his bracers. Noticing Axle's initial action, he stepped forward and howled out to draw attention toward his end.
Something about Axle had always intrigued Morgan. It was something of an idle fascination; every time he saw the other canine, he was reminded of his own feral roots. That same sense of familiarity is what helped snap him out of his relative defeatism; as crude as Axle's speech had been back at camp, it made perfect sense.
Why should I just assume she's gone? What if there's still a chance? What kind of leader would just sit there and let his own people die without even trying to fight and get them back?
The samoyed shut his eyes and picked up the pace as he mulled over those thoughts, his breath turning heavy. Half a mask and a full set of ice armor formed around his body, dyed a deep red by the war paint he wore. Politics didn't matter, his reservations didn't matter, and his own health certainly didn't matter. What mattered was that he'd help get his people home as safely as he could.
...
Once Morgan was able to sense Delilah's damaged presence, he knew he had finally caught up to everyone else. Heading in a separate direction from where the rest of the group was, he took another route toward the kidnapped Tangler to provide further coverage. Surely the main group had a stealthier strategy to focus on, so the General figured providing a distraction and some brute force would benefit them most without express knowledge of their plan. The less heat the rest of the group had to take, the better things would turn out.
The leader bounded toward his destination, forming a pair of spears from the water left in his bracers. Noticing Axle's initial action, he stepped forward and howled out to draw attention toward his end.
Arrow's gotta be the one retrieving her, then,
he assumed. He howled once more, stomping at the ground and causing it to tremble. Twice the diversions meant twice the chances that Arrow would be able to reach her target quickly.