Casimir remembered the day he met Mingan Weylyn; a mere two weeks ago now. The day that he woke from his reoccurring dream. At least, it started off as a dream.
It was a sunny afternoon, the sounds of the Whitecrown camp around him as he lounged on a bench at the edge of the dusty training clearing. His sons Rai and Finn were abandoning their training to wrestle each other into the dirt. Ara, his beloved soulmate, padded toward him with her father, Alpha Brishen, who had just come back from a visit to the Lovell pack to discuss trade between them and his own pack, Rainstorm.
The older male looked a little harried, but he dismissed it as “Tispy trade.”
Cas exchanged a look with Ara, who rolled her eyes and shrugged; Brishen was known for his desire to relive his younger days, which often included drinking more than he should.