Moonspear or something deep inside is dying

Chapter Two: Kaylan learns punctuation.

He had accepted Charon's position as Jarl some time ago, but Kaylan still remained in self-imposed exile— he was still learning, all those social cues and rules that he had lost to the storm and its subsequent isolation, and to reside within the pack proper was yet too overwhelming. And so he slept beyond the borders, daring only to step just inside the borders, and spending much of his time marking them. If ever there were desperate lone wolves at the borders, too weak to be of use, or obviously seeking to raid caches and no more, he had been quick to chase them off. Luckily, it had never come to blows— he was no stranger to combat, but in the beginning he had not been in any condition to truly partake.

His interaction was limited to @Charon, @Wildfire, or @Floki— they brought him food that he was unable to hunt for himself. Kaylan was still a beast of few words, though he perhaps graced Freyja with the most conversation. Even then, it was difficult for him, but not so difficult as it was to speak to his brothers. He was healing, slowly, but pack life was still an alien world to the viking. And so he kept his distance, though he knew that Charon's patience was waning day by day.

It was fortunate, then, that when Kaylan awoke this dawn with a strength returned— enough that he felt confident in body, if not mind, to venture into the reaches of the Moonspear. With a stretch, he emerged from his den, and drew near a tree to relieve his bladder. He looked, then, up the mountain— readying himself— before moving to find the trail upward, the path marked by the scents of the pack mates he had yet to truly know.