Large paws left exaggerated prints in the damp sand as Dagonet treaded along near the water’s edge. The tide was out, leaving the beach littered with tidal pools and scurrying crabs – though, having already eaten his fill for the day the wolf paid little mind to either of these things. Beside him dark waves lapped gently at the sand, undercutting the distant barking of seals somewhere up the beach. Dagonet listened absently to the noise they made, enjoying the sensation of a warm breeze ruffling his thick coat. It carried a pleasant, salty scent that the wolf relished; he had always enjoyed the beach. It harbored a calming atmosphere conducive to contemplation.
And there was much swirling about in the wolf’s mind. Originally his journey to Traum had been unplanned, and upon arriving once again on her shores Dagonet had fully intended to kill his target and move on again; but here he was, some two weeks later, still lingering. With the island once again inhabitable a new world of potential had opened up, and the wolf found himself increasingly tempted to sink his fangs violently into the opportunities presented. The looming entity that had been The Order of the Black Stag had long since found its way to the grave, where Dagonet was content to see it stay, but it seemed many of the island’s old inhabitants were trickling back. A growing pool of soldiers were gathering in the region, and the longer he stayed the greater his desire to unite his own group became; it wouldn’t be long before tensions started to arise between newly forming packs, and a competent mercenary company would soon find themselves met with great success. If there was one thing Dagonet excelled at, it was war.
His ears swiveled lazily as he continued to pick his way along, turning various possibilities over in his mind. He’d made an easy enough living these past years, contracting himself out with other groups without casting his allegiance. There was no reason he couldn’t depart and go back to that; but there was certainly more fortune to be had as the chieftain of his own company, and the wolf would have been lying if he claimed there was not a tempting lull. If he could round up a few of The Order’s old soldiers, he could easily create a force to be reckoned with. Time will tell, Dagonet mused silently to himself as he trailed to a halt by the water, scarred chest bowing towards the sand as he stretched luxuriously.