Under the shadow of the towering trees, the mighty wolf Fenrir strode with a dignified grace towards Logan. With a slow and deliberate pace, Fenrir positioned himself before Logan, settling down with a silent authority. His eyes, deep and knowing, locked onto Logan's with an intensity that bridged the gap between beast and man.
"This warg," Logan mused, as her watching the beast he could help but feel that they were closer to Tolkien's fantasy like Warg then wolf with their ferocious appearance and large size.
The beast himself was in the deep thoughts wandering through the tranquillity of their secluded haven wondering, "has truly led us into a sanctuary of peace." Here, in this secluded retreat, the threats that once prowled their nightmares were now distant memories. The necessity of the hunt, a staple of their survival, had become obsolete.
And though the monotony of their daily fare left something to be desired, Fenrir couldn't deny the allure of this newfound comfort.
Logan's gaze fell upon Fenrir's abdomen, where a vicious wound once marred the warg's flesh. Now, nothing but a faint scar remained, a testament to Fenrir's remarkable healing capabilities. "Your recovery is almost miraculous," Logan observed, an undercurrent of respect threading his voice. "But, considering your heritage and the robust resilience of your kind, it's hardly surprising."
The air between them shifted as Logan broached a tantalizing proposal. "Have you ever considered binding yourself to me as my contracted beast?" His tone was casual, yet the weight of his offer hung heavily in the silence that followed.
"If you ascend to the sixth tier of your kind, I'll gladly formalize our bond," Logan proposed, a playful yet earnest glint in his eyes. He was fully aware of Fenrir's exceptional potential, noting not only the warg's intelligence, which far surpassed that of his brethren, but also his rapid ascent to near-fourth-level strength, especially remarkable given his recent recovery.
Fenrir, however, remained inscrutable, his gaze piercing as if pondering the depths of Logan's soul. The proposition, though enticing, seemed to stir a contemplation within Fenrir, who, despite his beastly form, possessed a intelligence rivalling the wise human.
The notion of power and its acquisition, after all, was a complex affair in their world. Many creatures and beings spent lifetimes in pursuit of strength, leveraging the expanse of their centuries-long existences to inch closer to legend.
Yet, amidst tales of dragons and demi-gods, the real measure of one's legacy often lay in their ability to seize the extraordinary opportunities that fate occasionally bestowed.
As Logan awaited a response, the silence stretched between them. Then, with a quiet dignity, Fenrir rose. Without a word, he turned away, his departure leaving a trail of unspoken thoughts and unanswered questions. Logan watched, a mix of confusion and admiration in his heart. Perhaps, in Fenrir's silence, there lay a deeper wisdom, a choice to forge his path beyond the allure of contracted bonds.
As Logan implored Kodiak to share his insights from the vantage of an experienced animal trainer, Kodiak momentarily found himself at a loss. Yet, the reassurance in Logan's kindly smile swiftly dispelled his apprehensions, grounding him back into his role.
"Chief," Kodiak began, his voice carrying a newfound steadiness, "the adjustment will not sit well with the wargs. Given their high intelligence, they're bound to notice and react to the sudden scarcity in their provisions. It's akin to asking a person to suddenly make do with less, they're likely to question, resist, or express dissatisfaction."
He continued, acknowledging the dilemma they faced due to the insufficient supply of dragon rats. "Unfortunately, with no viable alternative at present, this adjustment, though far from ideal, becomes our necessary course of action."
Logan nodded in understanding, the gravity of their situation etching deeper into his resolve. "It's a harsh reality we're contending with. Make the changes as you see fit, but ensure you maintain clear communication with the wargs. Their understanding, or at least their compliance, is crucial."
"Rest assured, Chief, my team and I are on it," Kodiak confirmed, the weight of his responsibility clear in his demeanor.
The conversation then took an unexpected turn as Logan expressed his desire to visit the dragon rat farm. Kodiak, taken aback by the request, couldn't help but wonder about the Chief's sudden interest in such a place. Nonetheless, he led the way with due respect.
Arriving at the farm, the pungent air hinted at the bustling life within the seemingly unremarkable pit. Logan, peering into the depths of Pit No. 1, couldn't conceal his astonishment at the scale of the operation.
"Over four thousand dragon rats in this confined space? How is that feasible?" Logan's curiosity was piqued.
Kodiak, with a hint of pride, unveiled the intricacies of their setup. "Though modest in surface area, the pit extends deep, housing sixteen subterranean levels. This design, coupled with strategic reinforcements to prevent escapes, accommodates the dragon rats comfortably."
"Sixteen levels underground?" Logan marvelled, the cleverness of the design dawning on him. The use of black cedar for the internal structure not only provided the necessary separation but also added a level of sustainability to the breeding efforts.
The revelation left Logan both impressed and enlightened. The ingenuity Kodiak and his team demonstrated in maximizing their limited space spoke volumes of their adaptability and foresight.