So, I'm trying a different style of posting these chapters now. I want to get more content out for you guys to read quicker, so I'll be doing this for the next few chapters, see what you guys think.
But anyways! On with the chapter!
-Nf991
Episode 24 – Homecoming
3 Weeks Earlier
Portland, Oregon
The rain came down hard and fast, people still running down streets to try and find shelter for the latest heavy shower. Dark clouds hung ominously over Portland, stretching beyond its borders as the heavy rainfall came down faster. Cars drove through rapidly forming puddles that stretched across the street, splashing any unlucky pedestrian that didn't move out of the way in time.
Those that did get hit, making sure their opinions were heard by all those around them.
But one person avoided all the water the drivers tried to hit him with.
Hood up to shield himself from the constant rain, and jacket overtop to keep the inner layers dry, the man passed several stores and restaurants, the light radiating from the windows highlighting some of his features; most noticeably, a completed goatee, along with the tip of hair, black and a touch of silver, barely visible in a curtain-style cut beneath the concealing hood.
"…And now, the latest update on the Wolves of Pax Valley."
The man paused mid-step, head turning partially. Despite the heavy rain muffling most other noises, this voice sounded as clear as day. He turned to look aside, finding himself standing in front of a tech store, with a great number of TVs on display and currently showing the same news channel.
It had a middle-aged woman, dark brown hair cut shoulder length and dressed in a dark grey suit, stared into the camera as she spoke. "After the latest attack on the city of Pax Valley, Nebraska, in which an Electro-Magnetic Pulse-like device was triggered, several of the surrounding states are without power and trying to restore their power grids."
"This is only the latest incident concerning the Wolf Pack, who have been drawing attention all across the country, though not all for good reasons. A number of petitions have been gathering momentum online, with collectively over 50,000 people giving their various thoughts on this latest group of Power Rangers."
"Power Rangers?" the man asked himself, taking a step closer to the window, eyes widening a fraction. "'Wolves of Pax'?" He carefully raised his hands, pressing the palms as the reporter continued.
"…hile some people appear to be on their side, the majority of the population seems in favour of having sanctions set against this group of Power Rangers. The Canadian Government are reportedly demanding their arrest after an incident that had the Rangers cause tens of thousands of dollars' worth of damage to a protected national park."
"We'll keep you up to date with this story as it develops," she finished up, the reporter quickly getting replaced to give several low-quality pictures-most likely the clearest any lingering civilian could get before having to run-layered atop one another, all outlining the same five blurry figures; but with the unmistakable
He remained pressed against the window for a few moments longer, only distantly hearing the male reporter talking about the forecast of the weather.
Power Rangers….Wolf Power Rangers…
"And I thought those days were over now..." the man uttered to himself, taking a step away from the window, stepping through a large puddle in the process. This didn't matter to him, however, as he quickly turned on the spot, and walked back the way he had been previously walking from.
"Zen's gonna want to know about this…"
He had quickly walked out of the city limits, far beyond where anyone would care to follow him, and diverted off the public path a long time ago. The path he took was well worn in, yet far from the nearest other path often taken by any other residents of the city.
A testimony to just how many times he had taken this path over the past number of years.
Well…not just him.
As the thick brush thinned out into a small clearing, the man didn't even hesitate as a beaten up RV came into view. No-one would have given the seemingly wrecked vehicle a second look, if they were to even cross its path; assuming it to be abandoned, or some sort of remote druggy hangout. Making it perfect for lying low.
"Zen, we're leaving," he stated, not even closing the door behind him as he entered, turning into the kitchen cabinets, wrenching open the storage doors and began rifling through what little supplies they had.
Only now remembering why he had gone into town in the first place…
But he pushed those thoughts aside, simultaneous to his pushing aside of half-emptied jars and tins, searching towards the back of the cabinet. His fingers felt something cold, square shaped, and he quickly pulled it out from hiding.
At the same time, a long, drawn-out creeaaakkk came from the opposite end of the RV. For many, this would have been more than enough to send any stoned and half-drunk trespassers running, but it was something the man who lived with him had become accustomed to.
If anything, the attempt at intimidating silence only annoyed him.
"Zen-Aku, knock it off," the man pressed, cracking open the cash tin, revealing a few crumpled up dollar bills and a littering of coins of various value.
"You only open that in dire circumstances."
The cold, observant voice stated, as the shadowy figure stepped out of the shadows, into what little light was produced by the RV's dimmed internal lights.
"Well…"
The man, stuffing what money he had into his various pockets, turned to look at the anthro wolf, decked out in armour. He raised his hands up and brought his hood down, revealing his face.
"It's something I'm sure you'll have a great amount of interest in, Zen-Aku," Merrick Baliton responded, jaw tightening as he took a few steps closer to the Wolf Org, searching for any trace of curiosity that managed to squeeze out from the stoic mask.
And indeed, over the number of years they had been traveling together, he saw what he was looking for; a slight head tip, arms unfolding to fall back to his sides. Even with the mask concealing the majority of his expressiveness, Merrick could read the Org like a scroll.
"What could it possibly be, for you to be so confident?" Zen-Aku questioned.
Merrick paused for a moment, before he gave a response.
"Trust me…it's going to be something you'll have to see…to fully believe."
Present Day
"Your titles matter not in the Masters' Realm, intruder!" Batibat snapped viciously, quickly closing the gap towards the self-proclaimed Admiral, and circled around behind him to cut off any attempts to backtrack and escape. "You are nothing in His presence."
Richter's gaze followed Batibat as she abruptly approached, only stopping when she moved out of range and brought his eyes forward again. Well, his organic eye at least.
The robotic one, however, managed to complete a full 180° turn, looking into and through the back of his own head. The cybernetic attachment automatically switched view settings, giving him a crystal-clear image of the glare Batibat was drilling into the back of his head.
"As I have already stated," Richter slowly began, carefully turning on the spot; his cybernetic leg whirling and clunking with the faint shuffling. He stopped upon facing Batibat again, both of his eyes facing the same direction once more. "I am here as a visitor of Earth, and upon stepping foot here, your prisoner. I come here, bringing no threats, nor any impending doom."
"Though that does raise the question…" Death pondered aloud, taking cautious steps towards Richter, who turned around to face the cloaked and hooded Hand. "How exactly did you enter the Realm of Master Horror? You cannot simply…walk into His Realm."
"And how do you think I allowed myself entrance?" Richter asked, raising his eyebrow as he looked the Demon, a few inches shorter than his frame, up and down briefly. He flashed a brief, faux smirk as he answered, "You present someone with a doorway, and curiosity will get the better of them." One corner of his lips twitched a fraction more. "Every time."
"I find it hard to believe…"
All eyes present turned to face Horror, who had remained sat on, fist still support his chin, despite the intruder in his Realm. The Master's burning red gaze rose to rest upon the unflinching Richter.
"That simply curiosity is what brought you here, Admiral. You possess a…vast knowledge, which exudes great familiarity with our incantations and power."
"You are a man…well, a being of magic and mysticism…Horror, I would presume? I haven't been formally introduced, you see," Richter pondered, going to take a step closer to Horror and his throne. But was quickly reminded of the Demon standing in front of him, who brought his weapon dangerously closed to the robotic-side of his face.
"Stand aside, my Hand."
Death looked over his shoulder, his gaze lingering on his Master as if considering to question the order, before turning back to the expectant Richter. With visible reluctance, Death lowered his sword and after giving the intruder another deadly look, silently stepped out of the way.
Richter looked back from Death to Master Horror again, and after another lingering look to make sure his path wouldn't be blocked, took a couple of slow steps forward. He raised his cybernetic hand, extending out the fingers as he continued, "And I…as you can see, am a man of technology and scientific advancements. But where I'm from, the line where one ends and the other begins…well, the edges are very blurry."
"But you are right," Richter continued, lowering his hand again and bringing both of them to fold behind his back. "It was not simply curiosity that brought me to this planet."
"Then what was it then?" Batibat snapped, coming back around Richter's side and sneered at him as she returned to stand at her Master's side. Death doing the same, only on the opposite side of the throne.
"Hm. Feisty and impatient. A volatile cocktail, if it measured incorrectly," Richter dryly mused.
Batibat's glare turned sour and she looked ready to reach for her weaponry again; only stopping when she felt her Master's steely gaze burning into her scalp. She slowly regained her posture, throwing a dangerous glare at Richter as he resumed addressing the Master.
"I have been following something, across the galaxy; something…extremely powerful. It crashed onto this planet not that long ago."
"The Silver Warriors' crystal," Batibat interjected, glancing up to the Master. "A comet crashed into the human world, and the humans were able to get possession of it."
"Ah…Warriors? Is that what they're calling Power Rangers nowadays?" Richter asked, organic fingers drumming against his robotic wrist as he looked between the three in front of him.
Batibat turned to glance at the intruder, before taking a small step forward to stand in front of her Master. "My Master, surely we have no use of this...intrusive, over-knowledgeable Admiral. He comes into our World, passing through spells undetected and gets as far as your throne room. How could he possibly be trusted?"
"This over-knowledgeable Admiral also happens to have excellent hearing, just might I add," Richter interrupted, clearing his throat loudly. As a result, he got a sinister glare from Batibat over the shoulder, but easily brushed it off as she turned back to face the Master.
"Those questions, come in time, Batibat. But you..." Horror slowly rose from his seat, prompting his subordinates to kneel. He stepped down from the raised podium his throne sat upon, and spoke again once he had passed both Batibat and Death. "Are not the one to ask these questions."
The she-Demon dared risking a glance behind her Masters' back, her stoic expression faltering slightly at the berating. But she quickly got it back under control when he went to look over his shoulder, eyes firmly remaining on the ground beneath her.
Seemingly satisfied, Horror turned back to look towards Richter once again. Slowly, he advanced, step by step.
But the Admiral remained steadfast, standing at ease as the menacing Horror approached him. His robotic eye whirling and going through various different zooms and readouts. "Just so you know, I didn't come here to step on anyone's toes," he said, as Horror finally came to a stop, only a couple of meters separating the two of them. "I am here to give closure to the few survivors of the Decimator."
"The Decimator?" Horror questioned, and Richter was sure that, if he could see underneath the hood, the Demon had one of his eyebrows raised in question. If he…had…eyebrows.
"…What you call the 'Silver crystal'. It has been the last thing many civilizations have seen; though from how you speak of it, you very clearly know the potential this…crystal, has," Richter continued, hands coming from behind his back to relax at his side.
"Why come here? You seem to know where to find the Crystal, and yet you come here; where we clearly do not have possession of it," Horror responded questionably.
"You are correct; while I have been tracking the main source, I picked up a secondary signal that led me right here. Or, rather…" Richter brought his robotic hand up, and a faint red light appeared in his palm as he turned it to face Horror.
Both Batibat and Death moved forward on instinct, but Horror rose one of his hands to keep them back as the light in Richter's palm slowly faded. His other hand came across and tapped a few, unseen buttons. "It led me to you."
"As it should be. I was given form by an essence of the Crystal," Horror informed, unfolding one of his hands to gesture to himself. "But that is not the main concern as of this moment."
"You are right," Richter responded, "I have a mission to complete."
Horror looked at Richter for a moment, both sharing a brief showdown in silence; only to be interrupted by Batibat.
"My Master," she piped up, one hand raised, palm opened up and facing the ceiling of the chambers; a green orb of wispy energy formed, held in shape by her fingers. "Something has entered the territory. Something…no, can't be…"
"What is it, Hand?" the impatience in Horror's voice quickly rose.
Batibat looked to the orb in her hand again; she needed to be sure she was seeing correctly.
"A…A…An Animarium Warrior…and a…Org, but…this one is different."
Pax Valley
"High strike! Now low! Low! Aim for the shins!"
Savage's orders came out as sharp barks, echoing across the clearing where the teens were being trained. They were spit into pairs, sparing with one another with their Warriors' curved blades. They cut cleanly through the hair, only missing flesh and bone by the reaction time of the other; though a notable number of partially-healed cuts littered nearly every pair of shins. Grunts of effort and growing agitation came from some of them, in particular the sparing pair of Isaac and Tyler, both throwing their own looks at the Wolf Man.
Tanya, it seemed, was the lucky one out; having no sparring partner that wasn't Savage was reason enough. But MUTT had added to her not taking part in the sparing session; according to him, she was suffering from some lingering injures from the Fight at Fuji. Even her protests didn't stop MUTT from…for lack of a better word, mothering over them.
God, even thinking that made her eye roll.
"Stop!" Savage barked, a faint growl clawing at the end of the command. Out of the corner of her eye, Tanya saw Savage shaking his head slowly, as she saw the others shift back into relaxed stances and partially turned to the shouting Wolf-man. "Kyle."
"Yeah?" the named Warrior answered, digging his blade tip into the ground to use it as support for leaning on.
"You are still carrying an injury." Definitely a statement; his tone alone carried no questioning to it.
Tanya, and the other teens, glanced across to Kyle, whose eyes visibly widened momentarily before quickly settling back into a more relaxed look. He raised a hand, brushing off the accusation with a dismissive 'pfft'. "You're seeing things that aren't real, Savage. Probably need your eyes checked or something."
"Is that so?" Savage's eyes narrowed at the dismissive tone from Kyle, and the small smirk immediately fell from Kyle's face when Savage walked away.
"You're in for it now," Tanya warned, giving her smirk as Savage vanished behind them. "He's gonna beat the shit out of you just to prove a point."
"Should I start getting a tombstone ready?" Tyler questioned, blade resting, blunt-side, across his shoulders, looking between the others. This elected a few smirks and laughs from the others, while all it got out of Kyle was a glare.
"Listen here, wise ass-" Kyle warned, but he didn't get to finish before Savage returned.
Now armed, and trench coat toss up into one of the lower branches of a nearby tree, bearing his fur, Savage effortlessly flipped the blade around, grabbing the other hand just before the sharpened tip touched the ground. Not a single blade of grass was harmed.
"Since you claim to not have any injures, you shouldn't be opposed to a more intense spar, with myself," Savage stated.
Tyler looked across, and he had to stiffen his jaw to keep a smirk from involuntarily forming. He didn't think it possible for of Kyle's skin tone to get any paler. But he was mistaken.
"O…OK." The words tumbled from Kyle's mouth, and he was suddenly aware of the gap the others gave him, as they retreated to the side lines with Tanya.
Savage passed him, his strides impatient and claws tearing the ground he walked upon; Kyle could feel the agitation radiating from the Wolf man. He turned on the spot, and followed Savage a short distance away.
"Leg injury?" Tyler asked, looking around for Isaac. Seeing the Red Warrior retreating a bit further, sitting at the base of a nearby tree with Tanya.
"Think so; saw some damage to the right leg after Fuji, just never saw him have it looked at," Isaac responded, one arm draped across Tanya's shoulder; she shuffled a bit closer, leaning her head against his shoulder.
"And now Savage is gonna make him suffer for keeping an injury untreated," Natalie explained, giving a small shake of her head as she sighed. "I'll go get MUTT ready."
And with that, she headed off, grabbing her white Blade from the ground as she headed off. Leaving Tyler watching from the side with the love birds.
Meanwhile, Savage and Kyle were facing one another, each adapting a battle-ready stance; Kyle adopting a high, defensive stance, left hand leading. While Savage held a neutral stance, blade held with only one hand. Savage brought the blade up all of a sudden, pointing the sharpened tip to Kyle.
"Take point," he instructed, remaining in place as his sharp eyes watched for even the slightest hint of an incoming attack.
But Kyle remained still for the moment, fingers drumming the steel of his Blade, eyes darting between Savage and the distant teens watching from a distance. His options were dwindling a lot faster than he would have liked.
"Well?" Savage asked, a bit of a growl showing his patients growing thin.
"Shit…" Kyle audibly responded, shuffling into a better stance, holding his blade in a more attack-ready stance.
Though Savage saw the slight uneasiness that plagued every slight adjustment; his sympathies, however, weren't out for Kyle. He'd brought it on himself, and Savage was going to make sure he saw the error of his lies.
In a feeble attempt to catch Savage off guard, or knowing that this was going to end badly regardless of when he attacked, Kyle finally went on the offensive, closing the gap between them rapidly.
But Savage simply side-stepped, sticking one of his legs out as Kyle went for an in-range attack; at the same time, he twisted around to shove one hand against the centre of the teen's back. These two combined to see Kyle slamming into the ground, weapon scatting off to one side as his groan of pain was muffled by the ground.
"Ouch," Tyler uttered under his breath, wincing like he felt the very impact Tyler had experienced.
"Yeah…that's gotta hurt," Tanya agreed, sitting up from Isaac slightly to get a better look at what was happening.
Savage stabbed his own blade into the ground, and approached the still-downed Kyle. His trouser legs had rolled down slightly; one leg revealed several untreated cuts, dry blood starting to stick to the fabric of the trousers.
"You have left wounds untreated," he stated, crouching down beside Kyle, getting a closer look at the injured leg; narrowing his gaze when he spotted some of the dried blood. "And left untreated, disease and infection runs rampant."
He grabbed Kyle by the collar, and lifted him up from the dirt, sitting him up properly while being mindful to keep the injured leg up from making contact with the dirt. "Your health is a priority, because if you are not healthy, you cannot fight. And if we cannot fight due to injuries, we lose."
"Yeah, thanks for that," Kyle uttered under his breath, glancing off to the side.
Savage looked up to Kyle, and gave a deep exhale. "Go see MUTT, and get it seen to." He rose up to his feet once again, offering a hand for Kyle to take; the teen took the offer, and the together they got Kyle back onto his feet. Savage gave Kyle a pat across the back as he headed off, carefully limping back towards the Den.
Watching him off, Savage then turned back to look at the other Warriors and swiftly approached them. "Tanya, you're up; I'm sure you can handle Tyler one-handed," he commented, looking between the teens. His words brought a few chuckles from a few of them, and a glare from Tyler.
"Oh I'm sure I can manage that," Tanya responded, flashing a smirk across at the dark-skinned teen as she got to her feet, taking the Blade offered to her by Savage.
"Don't let the side down," Isaac called as Tyler stepped up, taking his Blade from the ground as he and Tanya approached Savage. They stood before the wolfman, Tanya taking a moment longer as she figured out how she was going to hold her Blade with her restrained hand. When she settled on a position she was comfortable with, both she and Tyler briefly looked across at Savage.
"Ready? Ready?" Savage questioned, looking between Tanya and Tyler, one after the other.
"Yep," Tanya confirmed, while Tyler only gave a slight nod.
Savage opened his mouth, ready to pit the two against one another; only…the barking command never came.
Tyler was the first to notice the prolonged silence; sure, he had experienced long periods of silence from Savage during his short time, but they were usually accompanied by a few glares and only interrupted by growls. This though…this felt different. He looked around to Savage, and blinked in surprise by what he saw.
Savage seemed…almost in a state of shock; looking off into the distant, ears perked up and body rigid. His chest was visibly rising with heavy breaths, and nearly all of the teens noticed when Savage had to step back to avoid falling backwards.
"Savage?" Tyler dared to ask.
His name seemed to break Savage out of the trace-like state he was in; turning sharply to look at the source of the voice. Though his breathing was still visibly deep, as his eyes darted between the teens as they stared back at him.
"Uh…you OK?" Tanya questioned.
Savage looked between Tanya and Tyler again; only this time, there wasn't that hardened edge present. And for the briefest moments, Savage seemed at a loss for words. This didn't last for long, however, as he quickly recovered and cleared his throat.
"Yes…Yes…" he responded, low and uncertain. "I…There's something that…that needs my attention." Savage looked around at the others, vaguely gesturing across to one of them. "One of you…you, keep an eye on them…while I…yes…" Savage didn't seem entirely there, as he slowly walked off, leaving the teens to watch him as he quickly vanished from sight.
"Is…he alright?" Tyler asked, looking back around to the others.
"Haven't seen him like that before…so it can't be good," Natalie responded, a look of worry crossing her face as the Wolfman vanished beyond the treeline. "Seemed almost…spooked."
Merrick slowly made his way through the thick woods that surrounded Pax Valley, rucksack slung over one shoulder as he stepped over fallen trees and followed brief trail segments. And aside from the distant bird calls and occasional twig that cracked beneath his foot, one could have easily mistaken for the man to have been traveling through the wilderness alone.
But he wasn't alone. Far from it.
In the trees above him, the more supportive branches slowly bent and groaned, with unexpected weight suddenly being applied to them; forming a similar trail to Merrick beneath him. Most would have questioned what purpose this would serve, especially in an area so remote, but for the human beneath the movements, it had become almost second nature to him at this stage.
Even when the creaking of branches stopped, Merrick didn't feel any sort of anxiety or nerves starting to build. And when he came to a brief stop in the middle of his tracks, it was followed by the near-silent rush of air that accompanied something landing from the trees.
What did catch his attention, however, was a low, underlying 'Hmm…' that came from behind him. It held…suspicion, along with something that he couldn't quiet put his finger on. What was it?
"Something the matter?" he asked, turning around partially, finding the Wolf Org coming up alongside him, looking all around much like he was doing earlier.
The black leather-and-armour combo worn by Zen-Aku stood out against the trees and bushes, even with shadow cast over all the area; as if it absorbed any light that shone down upon them. No animals of the forest would come anywhere near them; and even if they would, Zen-Aku's piercing yellow gaze and sensitive hearing would have picked up anything remotely close with ease.
"Hmm…" the Duke Org uttered under his breath, a low, yet sharp, exhale escaping through the vents in his mask. At Merrick's question, however, he paused momentarily, yet didn't turn around to face him. "Nothing…thought I heard something. Must have been the wind…" came the gruff reply.
OK, that started triggering alarms bells in Merrick's head, though he kept any of this showing from through his face. Despite the Wolf Org refusing to turn and face him, Merrick knew to be weary of how he expressed himself. Especially when it was directly linked to him. So he didn't press the matter, and instead took the moment to take a closer look at their surroundings.
"We should make camp for the night not far from here; wouldn't be a good idea to get too close to the city," Merrick finally broke the silence once again, shrugging the backpack off his shoulder and set it down beside the nearest tree. "Don't want to get too close in case we r-"
He turned to explain his plan of action to Zen-Aku, but found the spot he had been standing absent; only the faintest shuddering of leafs in the tree above. Merrick gave a slow inhale, eyes closing momentarily. "…In case we run into those Rangers."
\\\\/
'Why does this place seem so…familiar?'
The thought echoed throughout Zen-Aku's mind, searching for answers both within his own thoughts and from what he could see from his spot in the tree. His vantage point provided him with a wide view of the territories they had entered; with the city in the distance, it was surrounded by a varied mix of wide clearings and thick forests, firmly encasing the large man-made structures in a prison of nature.
But it was the distant towers of stone and glass that caught the Org's attention the most; even at the distance like they were now, his highly-tuned hearing picked up nearly everything from the constant human rabble. The number of times he had a throbbing pain form in the back of his skull-Merrick telling him it was called a 'head-ache' when it first happened along their travels-were far too many to count.
But he also picked up when the 'headaches' didn't appear when they should. And this time...
There was silence. Not a sound from the city. Only the distant and near bird calls from the surrounding trees, and various rattling and ruffling Merrick was making with his rucksack beneath.
"Yet, there's something about this place…' The Org hmm'd under his breath, what fur was free of his armour and mask ruffling in the gentle breeze. His burning yellow eyes slowly closed, inhaling the scent of his surroundings, optimistic as to whether or not this would somehow assist him. His hand slowly moved down his side, fingers coming to rest on the handle of his dagger. Though he made no move to remove it from its sheath, Zen-Aku kept it there; much like how his mind was occupied, at least hand was resting on something…familiar.
\\\/
Not far from where Zen-Aku had perched himself and Merrick had started setting up, a crimson-clad Savage slowly moved through the overgrown grass and bushes, pushing them aside to forge a path through the previously untouched fields. The distance seemed so much larger than the Wolf remembered, though he knew the reason why it seemed like that…
The sunlight caught the battered and scarred design his armour had evolved into, far beyond any chance of restoration. Even the mask he wore hadn't escaped intact, the crimson coat of paint chipped, scratches overlapping one another. One would think a good blow with shatter it into pieces.
Any blow, that is, except the one that struck him as he passed into the next field.
Savage was brought to a dead stop, involuntarily taking a sharp inhale; receiving an addition smack of the scent right in the face. He forced his eyes shut, thinking in vain that it would somehow help block any and all mental images from forming. But with his eyes closed, he was very aware of his racing heartrate, beating like a tribal drum in his chest. And even when he managed to open his eyes and restore them to a trained, harden glare, Savage found signs of tension still lingering.
A quick look down found his hands tightly clenched into fists, the leather glove beneath the armour plating drawn tight. Even when he forcefully unclenched, the faintest shaking was still very visible to him.
"You're shaking."
Savage turned sharply, a snarl barely forming on his muzzle, only to fade just as suddenly. His eyes widened, and for a brief moment, found his breath caught in his throat and unable to breath.
"Have you not held a weapon before?" the wolf, not that dissimilar to Savage, questioned, eyebrows cocked in interest. His fur a subtle blend of black and dark grey shades, only partially visible beneath the similarly coloured armour plating and cloth; an equally obsidian-shaded blade dug into the dirt beside him.
A far-younger Savage looked between the sitting Wolf and the blade he held in his hand; far shorter than the one the older Wolf was armed with, but made from a similarly-treated metal. His fingers flexed around the grips, giving off a far more anxious vibe instead of a confident, battle-ready one. "Haven't trained with a real one yet," he sheepishly admitted, ears partially folded back.
A quiet sigh came from the older Wolf, with a small shake of the head accompanying him as he stood, flicking his blade around and adjusting his grip to hold it more like a traditional sword. This action promoted Savage to do the same, ears still folded back as eyes followed the slowly circling elder Wolf.
"A promise was made with your father; though your brother in blood is occupied with…other matters, it seems like I'll be the one to take the responsibilities," he claimed, flicking his blade around and slid his hand down to the other handle, bringing the blade into a less traditional, reverse grip.
Savage nodded slightly, looking down to his own blade, slowly bringing the smooth side to rest on his other palm, briefly returning his gaze to meet the elder Wolf, now he was standing before him once again.
"And I am nothing, if not a Warrior of my Word."
Savage closed his eyes again, looking away briefly as his fists clenched up again. When he was able to open them again, he could confirm that the field he stood in was empty, safe for himself. The only trail in the overgrowth was what he had left behind, and no-one else in sight. He was alone.
"I believed you back then, Naku…" the words were barely audible to his own ears, turning to look back at the direction he was originally heading in. His hardened glare narrowed, as he managed to bring himself to walk again, further breaking down the grass under his heavy steps.
"But now, I'm not so sure."