Waxing

"Old friend, are you well?"
The wolf snorted out of his nose, turning to the other with a glare, his golden eyes illuminated under the dim moonlight.
"You are smart enough and know me well enough to know the answer to that."
Ryoma sighed, approaching him, running a hand through the fellow god's fur as he came to sit next to him.
"Tell me what troubles you, like you always do."
"You know that already as well, but I'll humor you, for a time. We are not anywhere near prepared enough for the war licking at our heels, our companions are too young, too green, too focused on their duties to take it seriously." Ferventi paused, watching down the valley as a procession of deer made their way back into the forest. Undoubtedly, they were on Mora's heels. "I fear we will lose many good divines spurred on by their own compliance and ignorance."
"I do as well, old friend. As many battles of theirs I have put to a close, our friends and allies have not seen what you or I have."
"You talk as though you're anywhere near as old as me."
Ryoma patted him on his shoulder lightly with a laugh.
"That I am not, though it's hard to remember that fact when you insist on looking nearly as young as I do."
Despite the jesting, the wolf still looked troubled, more often than not staring out in vaguely north, as if already scanning the skyline, waiting for the tell tale cries of ravens and buzzards.
"What would you do, to prevent it?"
"The war? Nothing- we are a few eons late for that my friend, she started it far beyond my own time, this is merely a resumption."
"...the worst case scenario, I mean." Ryoma corrected.
"Ah." For a time, the god of war sat without a word before finally licking his snout. "I suppose the only way to keep things as a war rather than a genocide would be to take the battle to her. The usual tactics of blocking off her route will not work when she can simply fly over us faster than even my best riders can run, but there is still the chance to harry her army and exhaust them before they can ever reach the borders of the mortal world."
"Are you unconcerned about the Land of Gods?"
"Our lands have always recovered and will do so again- if the valleys can survive our own fighting amongst themselves and the glaciers, I have little worry of what dragons can do to them."
Both sat quietly for a time, knowing the statement to be true, the Land of Gods had always recovered from whatever devastation their kind had wrought. Even the lands devastated by Ferventi, the ones so thoroughly soaked with blood they still stank with it today, harbored some form of life again- But that was nothing compared to the intentional havoc and destruction wrought by the dragons. Magic unleashed that shook the world so deeply, the very soil had been changed the world over, that gods were born and rose to protect their ken from it for only that purpose. Powers so great, it created gods to oversee the powers of life and death itself.
Both knew it- Ryoma had studied it, extensively, his entire way of life shaped by the way war was done in the world and preventing it and knew in his mind he, like any other god, was born from it. Ferventi, however, had lived it. He was one of the first, he had seen those who were no more but dry bones and common stone that had been killed by it.
The great wolf leaned against him, a sigh leaving him.
“I ask a favor of you regardless, Ryoma.”
“A favor I surely owe you.” The god of tuna cocked his head to the side, idling himself with twisting the wolf’s shedding fur into small braids then undoing them again and brushing out the thorns and mats from his great pelt. Most of their dealings were informal like this, but rarely so grave.
Even for a god so steeped in death and destruction, it was odd for him to take things so seriously- ordinarily, that was meant for after the war times. For Ferventi, war was a pleasure and after with all the reparations and recovery a time of solemness. For Ryoma, it was the opposite.
For both of them, both steeped in worry and not knowing what to do was such a rarity that surely the thought had to of crossed both their minds on if it had ever happened at once like this before.
Fervent’s voice broke their long silence, the practiced calm and steady voice of a general:
“...Gather as many as you can, as many who will listen and heed the warnings of an old man. It would be best to prepare, to be ready to deal with the worst we have never been privy to see.”
He rubbed Ferventi’s ear, smoothing out his dense fur along his neck as he stood to do just that.
“I know at least Soliairs will be itching for a fight regardless of the sides, and their word is good with Yung. Regardless of the battlefield, a fleet is a good asset for us to have, at least to control the supply lines. I suspect you have already begun doing the same?”
“I’ve already gotten word from Hikaru and Sasakia, their shrines and temples have already begun preparing rations.”
“Will your children… Will they join as well?”
“Wherever I go, they follow. Whomever makes themself an enemy in me, is one of theirs as well. They will join the fight, and be as fierce as the desert sun or winter storm.”