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There's a thin semantic line separating weird and beautiful - Dragomir - May 24, 2020
Only when Dragomir reached a sprawling meadow, far from the mountains he'd called home for the past few months, did he turn his head to look back. The sun was already sinking behind the wild trees on the horizon, bathing the whole of the Wilds in a rosy golden glow. His eyes found the jutting peak of Moonspear and lingered there a long time, his breathing light, his heart heavy.
He wondered what @Hydra was doing then: was she tending to Osiris still, or was she preparing to whelp? Was she still searching for Osiris' attacker or was she preparing the wolves of Moonspear to defend themselves and their home? He disagreed with a lot of her methods, had seen the arrogance in the Ostrega way of life and what happened when it became too large for any wolf to handle, but he would miss her fiercely and wished her well.
His mind wandered to @Arcturus, to the faithful Beta who had always shown Dragomir kindness. The strength of that man's character would serve as a template for the sort of wolf Dragomir hoped to grow into. Although his turning away from Moonspear was a disappointing turn of events and shattered Dragomir's perception of loyalty, he couldn't help but to replay everything he'd been told in his head, and concluded that it was best for Arcturus, just as it was best for him, to get away. To stretch his legs. Learn what else was out there. Escape his sister's shadow, and the reminder that he was second best, even when he was the best among them all.
He hoped to see the man upon another mountain someday, as promised.
He wondered about the other denizens of Moonspear, but none had had as profound an effect on his life as those two. Opposing forces, now, perhaps not wishing for one another's demise, but trying their best to forget one another, instead. Two halves of the whole that Dragomir briefly got to experience. He thought of everything else that had shaped him thus far, and his mind landed lastly on his sister.
Isilmë would be just fine without him. He couldn't even be sure she was around anymore, but there came a time in every young wolf's life where they must walk away from everything they'd known. Dragomir kom Wodakru was now strong enough to take his own steps. He turned away from the mountain, pulled in a deep breath, and began walking east.
He was like a great bird of prey now, a skaiglaida, with nothing but blue sky and the promise of adventure ahead.