Something powered Njal on this day that he could not name. A sense of purpose had started to wane within him, as it always did when he ascribed to the ideals of pack life; but he was resistant to these whims as well. The man was happy here. He had found a land much like Kindred in territory and filled with quiet, stoic individuals. Beings that reflected his own reserved nature.
Still, he wanted. He desired. A deep level of Njal was not satisfied and he would continue to hunt for that piece which would fill the hole in his heart.
As he patrolled along the river's edge, his steps were sluggish. His figure drooping with a growing lethargy. A man could only spend so many hours staring at the water before wishing for a fish; however, much of the river's shallows were frozen over at this point. Frost crept along that water's surface and scared away the fish within. Njal thought up many reasons why he was not flourishing at his job; but they were only excuses. The Gamma heard a sound behind him -
somewhere in the grass, amongst the snow and crispy grass. He turned sharply - leaping in to action. Large paws caught against the earth and pulled him forth, crunching the snow as he pursued. Njal had a feeling something was watching him. Just as his lungs began to burn from the running, he heard a new sound - a howl, perched in the winter air. A summons for a spar.
With a sharp breath, Njal headed in the direction of the call. The running had warmed him, thawed his stale state. He spotted the wolf after a short trek across the territory; and with a grunt, he observed her movements.