It felt strange to be home after so long. He was glad that the land under his feet had dried, just in time for the air to cool. Yao knew that he had missed much, both in the days that he had disappeared, swept away by the waters, and the time he had taken to adjust himself back to life with the Neverwinter wolves. Cupid had died, their guests from the shore had come and gone, news of rumbling in the north from wolves he did not know, but despised based on their words and deeds.

He hated how guilty he felt, how angry he was at himself for not being there.

In the meantime, he focused on fixing his den, now neglected after so long unused. Winter was coming after all, and he was no wintertime wolf. He had to make it nice and warm for his poor, thin fur.