"Choose wisely. You only get to pick your animal once. If you let it die, you will get to pick another one just once more."

   I knew this already. I had been looking forward to this day for three years. Now, I wasn't so sure. I was already on my second hunting animal. Here, animals were sacred, especially the ones specifically designed for the soldiers to fight alongside with.

   My first one, a proud white wolf flecked with silver fur, had been killed three years ago when I was seventeen by saving my life from a marauder raid. Oh, Vasara. I skimmed my fingers along the cage doors, the various animals inside growling or hissing.

None looked like her.
None would ever replace her.

   I didn't turn as Raziel came up beside me, a white-tailed hawk already perched on his arm. His ice-blue eyes were bright like a child who had received candy as he admired it flapping its wings once then neatly folding them back in. White to match the colour of the snow surrounding the place we lived in. I didn't bother pointing out the irony of choosing an animal that could fly when his name was an angel who could also fly. "Must be hard, huh? Seeing all these predators who could be yours to tame...you never told me what Vasara means."

   "In tevene, my first language, it means valiant. She was valiant, to her last breath."

   Raziel pushed me gently, "She was. Although there was that one time where she tried to claw my face off..."

   "You offended her."

   "Wolves can't understand our language!"

   "Hand gestures are a dead giveaway to what we're thinking. She got irritated with you taking away her spotlight."

   "Oh please. That wolf was just jealous." I smiled softly at that.

   A low snarl caught my attention. By then, most of the recruits had chosen their animals, only four potentials remained. I squinted at the predator lurking near the back of the cage in front of me. If it wasn't huddled against the bars, it would be bigger than the cage containing it.

   A gasp slipped from me. I nudged Raziel in the ribs. "What?" He asked annoyed, smoothing his hawk's feathers back.

   "Look." I pointed, his gaze following my finger towards—

  "You don't want that one." Raziel jumped as our trainer, Zymor, came up behind us.

   I whirled on him, suddenly furious. I could pick whatever animal I liked. I had waited three years for this day. "Why not?"

   "Bad past. He escaped his cage as a pup, ran into some rebels who recognized his white fur as a sign of his ownership. They returned him an inch from Death's Door as a message."

   "The scars on his body. Are those from the rebels?"

   "Indeed they are."

   "I want him."