Cerulean Cape thunderclap

*cackles*

after weeks of avoidance, lycaon still had not sought his brother out to make amends. on the contrary, he elected to go on furlough for a few days to decompress, and struck up the coastline without a clear itinerary in mind. 

he’d noted the dark blue clouds trundling in the distance the day prior, but couldn’t discern which direction the storm was heading and committed to his path due southwest until the tempest was astir overhead. lashes of violet-mantled whips scourged the blackened horizon, pelting the earth with stinging rain and graupel. the intense updraft made for unnavigable conditions so Lycaon had taken shelter under a jutting spar of rock, a chill settling in his bones, and intended on waiting out the downpour overnight.

dawn broke and the Grimnismal wolf was roused from a fitful slumber by a bellow in the distance — distinct from the repetitive applaud of thunder the night before. he stepped into the sun, shaking his coat out and wringing out each foot with a fleck of his ankles.

another wolf, not much younger than himself it seemed, romped in the bent grass, lobbing some mangled seabird through the air and rallying cries for prying ears. Lycaon maintained a courteous radius. no telling how unpredictable this fella was, and the pale eyjolfur wanted a jump on vamoosing if he too was amongst the storm's provisions. ”yoo-hoooooo.” he sung out, squinting at the stranger and his equally strange behavior.