find us to the east.

the torrent had been hard and swift, driving the wolves of whitebark from their homeland quickly. germanicus had been loathe to leave, seeking a moderately higher ground only a short while before descending back to the foaming mess that had once been their home. he paced through floodwaters where he was able, swimming from ridge to ridge while he called out for those of whitebark not collected by artyom.

in the days that passed, the eaglebound traveled in the direction that the man had indicated, but never did he locate the pale leader, nor the family that called him father, nor his mate. discouraged, the soldier had found the remainder of their trail washed by downpour, and returned back to whitebark immediately.

he lingered now in the flatlands nearby, still swamped with the stream's offering, but ankle-deep in this place, and germanicus called again for those who might be near. despite his aloof mien, the man worried for the cubs that might not have made it through this calamity. and as his voice was carried off, the waterlogged centurion wondered if @Ico might hear — or @Célnes.

this time, if no one came, germanicus would not remain. 

She came back temporary. Hearing faint rumors on her cousins, and other from the Déorwine family. Though, despite her inkling toward the inevitable, the elken woman still held a rather surprised look. The land she temporary laid to was now destroyed by a torrent of water, the rivers overflowing, and the land sunken. 

Unfortunate, she thought.

The wolves would have moved. Célnes made the correct decision wisking the two away from here, though couldn't help but shake her head at the misfortune, and only hoped the High Elk would help them so. Perhaps being unblessed was their downfall of this land, but there was hope they remained alive. She could understand the misfortunate of nature, as her own was destroyed by fire, and now the curse of water.

Then she heard the call of someone familiar, whome she met before disappearing near the mountains, "Germanicus?"

Fear had plunged into his bones as the river continued to swell. As quickly as he had found a home, it had been wiped from existence, starting with Aphrodite. He had gone out on a limb, following her to something that looked like it could have been a better life. Something with meaning. Juniper had kept him strong. But she had faded and shrank as the rain continued to fall day after day. Taikon knew that the river would not stop. He knew that Artyom and Dawn would have the wisdom to move their young family away from this forsaken place.
But they ventured east, toward no place that could be home. They melted away into the Taiga, and Taikon did not follow. Juniper had once asked, why do people leave? She had asked as if begging him to stay. But his little scrub was leaving him, and he knew it unlikely he would ever see her vibrant face again. That face had disappeared with the rise of The Saints and the healer's death.
Whitebark Stream was broken. Though Taikon could hear the howls of his prior pack mates in the distance as he ventured around the old territories, there was nothing more holding him there. The rug had been ripped from under him once more, this time by the combined turmoil of regional threat and Mother Nature. He thought for a moment of allowing the water from the river to take him, but this seemed pointless.
Taikon moved west, homeless and more bitter than ever.