Moonspear And so, does the destination matter?

@Hydra

The mountain loomed impressively. This had been the first thought that he had embraced upon approaching the territory dubbed Moonspear. His role as the pale mother’s guardian had been an easy one; they had not crossed paths with any who had sought her harm. Even when they had been met by the protective blue stare of the dark leader there, Guildenstern had not felt that they were in any danger. While social scenarios were not typically met favorably, the pale knight had not found it all too difficult to stand by while the scarred woman spoke with her… friends. He had taken that time to regard their claim with a curious gleam in the starlight silver of his gaze. A mountain had always seemed a suitable home, to him. He had often wondered why there were those who were drawn to the woods or the sea in turn.
 
When the scarred woman had been left to tend to children – a particular feat that Guild was terrible at – he had taken his own path out into the territory and had sought to understand the jutting, heavenly spear for himself. Upward seemed to be his only direction, carrying his massive frame from the base of the bluff to the higher peaks. From there, the knight was met with an impressive view of the world below. The sellfang drew himself to the edge of the stone and then reclined back to his haunches. It was here that the powerful beast of the northern tundra waited to see what would meet him upon his stony perch.

Hydra wanted her husband to know the pale waif better, prior to her meeting their children for the first time. She had told @Dirge of her ideas, and her reasoning behind it all; she wanted them equipped for all things she possibly could equip them with, and this seemed like a good opportunity to do so. Hydra thought of the other filmy-eyed wolf she knew. Or perhaps, now, he was without that eye. Whatever the case was, whatever he had learned out there, Hydra sought to ever be one step ahead of him. Her children, too.

So while her mate attended to one, Hydra sought the other. She was more interested in him, in any case; he had come from a different sort of wilderness, she suspected, and she imagined he might be one of the few wolves who could teach her something new. Hydra followed his trail idly, not in any particular rush to meet him as she surveyed her own domain and ensured all was well, but in time she saw him.

The sun cast a golden halo around the edges of him, highlighting his impressive bulk. A nostalgic feeling seized her as she thought of her father, but it was blessedly quick to leave; Hydra chuffed in greeting as she closed the distance between them, moving to settle alongside him (though not directly, giving him space). Her own features were impassive, as ever, as her gaze searched the forests below for any movement that indicated a herd was on the move nearby that meant good hunting, silent for the timebeing while she inspected. For some time more they lingered here, a comfortable quietness shared between the two; it was a moment of rest for the new mother, who recalled her appreciation for silence when she could have it. In time, though, they went their separate ways to fulfill whatever duty needed their attention foremost.