___ Southern Gate ___
Loki stood at the helm of the battlement, staring toward the northern gate with a cold gleam in his eyes. Ever since he had heard the war horns coming from that part of the battlefield, he had been restlessly waiting for a possible attack from the south, but none came. The silence surrounding his position was almost unbearable because everyone knew that the enemy was already pushing towards their walls, yet nothing was happening at their gate.
Loki had spent the last several minutes shifting his weight from one foot to another, his fingers repeatedly tightening around the shaft of his spear as he waited for the moment he could finally join the fight.
He hated standing here while the sounds of battle came from somewhere else, especially knowing that Crow was facing the very enemy responsible for the destruction of their clan.
