Lord Louis, the great lord to whom ten thousand people were grateful, was currently playing with a wolf.
Cold Fang lay on the grass, ears twitching slightly, eyes intent, ready for Louis's next command.
"Ambush."
Cold Fang slipped silently into the grass, a silver-gray shadow circling around to the rear flank.
"Surprise Attack!"
He lunged out, seized the hanging cloth target in his jaws, and shook it violently several times.
"Retreat!"
He immediately released it, turned nimbly, and raced back to Louis's side, his movements crisp and efficient, without a single wasted motion.
After several months of training, Cold Fang could readily understand almost all of Louis's commands.
Whether stalking, launching a surprise attack, or standing guard, he carried out each one flawlessly.
Sometimes, Louis did not even need to speak. A single look was enough for him to understand his master's intentions.
Of course, over the past two months, it had been Aig training Cold Fang, not Louis.
But Tundra Wolves had a powerful instinct for hierarchy.
Aig handled the drills, feeding, and discipline, yet Cold Fang had never truly obeyed him.
The moment Louis returned, he bounded over with his tail wagging and followed him everywhere like a shadow.
He knew perfectly well who the real boss was.
"Good dog." Louis crouched down and stroked his forehead.
Cold Fang gave a low whine and nuzzled Louis's palm as if asking for praise. Then he stretched his neck and planted his big head squarely on Louis's legs, demanding affection as though it were his rightful due.
"Here we go again."
Pinned so firmly that half his body could not move, Louis smiled ruefully. "You're a wolf king, not a dog... hey, no licking!"
Cold Fang's tail spun like a windmill. With his mouth open and tongue hanging out, he