Ravensblood Forest Patient In The Flames

Vagabond rushed through his patrol, each day marking the next tree in an effort to make their territory stronger. He would wear grooves with his claws in others. He no longer stopped to rest. He would of course quench his thirst at the river when he needed to, but that was all. He knew if he were to ever have time for his offensive training he'd need to save every spare bit of time possible. But he would never neglect to scan for any sign of intruders. He was on their northern border now, a hotspot for intruders. His nose lifted to the air, checking for any scents that were out of the ordinary.

he had become melancholic, in an inspiring, poetic manner. he caught a trace of a familiar scent, and let his long stride bring him nearer.

the dark artemis, where was she? how had she changed? his own frame had certainly become more obscured over the past season. had she shed her mother's curves yet, were her offspring now running about?

the possibility of a second meeting was sweet enough of a though, that slavuj came closer than he usually risked. 

sat down facing the trees, he sung the same song, swaying with the rise and fall of his voice.

"...th' sea~son rubs mi wraung,

th' sah~mer swells, anon,

so knock mi daun~"

He was drawn closer to the coast by a truly concerning sound. They were words but disjointed in a way that he had never heard. He wondered if the stranger was wounded. With a sigh he grew closer to the sound to see a pile of tangled dreads in the form of a... dog? They swayed with the words. He gave a sharp bark to stop the sound. You're dangerously close to Sacrarium's border, my friend. Are you well?

the bark certainly jolted him, bringing about the casement of the song. slavuj turned his head to the treeline.

"ah!" he grinned, and immediately his tail began to thump the ground. "whaet lack ai haev!"

the komondor rose to his feet and turned to the stranger, before submissively bowing himself. 

"mai fraend, ai vish tchu knouw about di faet ouf ae woman! moust beautiful, raven-black pelt oun ae diminutive fraem; ae hunchress, ae mader!" his covered gaze drifted away to the corners, and the bard swayed at the infatuating memory. 

recovering himself into stillness, his head briefly dropped, then rose to grin anew at this obvious packmate to his artemis. "tchell mi, whaet forchune befell jis beauchiful wan?"