Ankyra Sound tired soldiers in this war

As the moon of the chilling night sets at it’s peak in the sky Kerberos seeks out familiarity in a land that has changed and aged as he has. He’s not known the Wilds his whole life and his stays here were flighty at best. For someone whom had always considered himself a homebody he had sure down a lot of traveling, a lot of settling and uprooting; nothing stays the same, he thinks. Change is what allows the world to grow and expand. Ankyra Sound is abandoned and by the complete lack of scents aside fron the old trail of a loner or a random pack wolf Kerberos deduces that it’s been as such for a long time. He’s a relic, he thinks. A relic of a bygone era with memories that he thinks that no other in these Wilds would share. He peers to the ocean: the sound of the time crashing against the beach a comforting lullaby to the Aok. Upon the rippling water’s surface where the moon is reflected he swears he catches a glimpse of the white bear Atka: the mother of light …and closer yet he feels his hackles bristle on end as he notes a lumbering shadow move, the scent of a thousand decaying bodies lingering in his wake. The black polar bear: Sos. The Dark Father. Their tug of war over him is consistent and tiresome. Kerberos is tired. Tired of the war that goes on in his mind. Tired physically from his long journey. His legs remember the way from his ( very ) brief stay the last time and they take him to the grotto where shelter awaits him beneath the earth. He is almost glad it’s been abandoned.