Ankyra Sound like bros

Cameos and single posts welcome too!

To Vlad's great joy and amazement, Saltwinter had become an actual pack. They hunted and lived together in what passed for harmony, and a steady trickle of fresh blood kept showing up around the coast - easy pickings for Saltwinter's dedicated recruiter.

But Vlad wasn't certain about @Njal. The old Russian was exceptionally grumpy, and looked upon Vlad and his Rat with deep-seated suspicion whenever their paths crossed. Today, Vlad was determined to make amends.

"'EY! LEEMPY!" Njal was trudging slowly through freshly fallen snow. It covered the beach, and was still coming down. Vlad followed in the older wolf's footsteps at a sprightly canter, tongue flapping out of his mouth. "Having you now gud leg? I geev new naming!" Limpy wasn't exactly flattering.

Vlad is my patronus. I... I have no words.

Time upon the beachside passed slowly for the old man. He didn't know what to do with himself. The tunnels did not interest him, and he was wary to be caught underground by any of the menfolk due to his lack of trust in both Vlad and Rat, so he lingered among the dry reeds and loitered on the cliffside whenever possible. It was difficult to find a decent place to rest, especially with sand ingraining itself through his fur; more so because his leg smarted with every attempt to soothe it. Sometimes walking would tire him to the point of feeling numb, other times the activity would make a ghostly pain rise through his leg and embed in to his hip. There was no remedy for his aching - so he was set in a perpetual agitation.

The recent snow upon the sand had made things a little easier. The sand was too damp to be clingy, and the chill of winter's steady onset was refreshing. Njal was taking a brief sojourn through the recently fallen drifts when he heard a grating voice - his eyes rolling when he recognized the slurred half-speech of Vlad. The nickname rang true though. "What do you want." Njal huffed, turning just as Vlad's spry form came jaunting up to him. 

"Having you now gud leg? I geev new naming!" Vlad proclaimed, and promptly let his wagging tongue slip out of his maw.

"No." Njal sneered, his front teeth slipping free of his lips in a brief look of annoyance. "Hasn't gone away yet, so I doubt it will." He didn't mention that the pain was probably all in his head. It felt real enough, and kept his mood sour. It was not something the old man wanted to dwell upon. "Just call me Njal." It was better than any nickname anyhow.