With Ahnasha's reassurance, and Fendros holding the sword out just a little further to encourage him, Rhazii carefully took it in both hands. When his eyes turned up to Fendros and Ahnasha, they could both see the beginnings of tears that he was clearly holding back. He pulled the sword two inches from its old, travel-worn scabbard in an effort to distract himself. It was not by any practical sense a special sword for the likes of his pack. Finely made steel, to be sure, but when compared to the equipment they were headed into battle with, it was a mantlepiece ornament.

The symbol of it caused a tear to fall from Rhazii's cheek. He might be the next in line to do all that his father did and more. He did not feel ready.

"Here," Fendros said, drawing his son's attention. "The worst rarely happens. But, should it occur, know you can take on anything in the world. We are proud of the young man you have grown into. You will surpass us. You and your brother and sister."

Rhazii's eyes scrunched closed. Fendros took his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. He soon let go of one side and invited Ahnasha into the hug.

Janius roughly lifted the visor from his dragonbone helmet before Julan had said a word, revealing his wolfish head with the fur depressed into the shape of the helmet's interior. His ears perked and he let out a low, rumbling laugh. "No steel or metal will have an easy time of breaking this. And it does not dent either. Want to touch it?" He offered his opposite hand and held the affixed axe behind him.

When Janius approached further, Janius held his head lower, kneeling down. "How are you feeling, son?" he asked.

Narsi was on the defensive the entire time, arms firmly crossed and eyes avoiding Lorag's. "...Mm," she responded, surprisingly nervous. She mumbled something under her breath. Lorag was barely able to hear some of the words. "...Y' said y'd teach me. C'm back alive."