Whitebark Stream What's up, grandpa?

Hush as of this thread has not met Thuringwethil.

The silent wanderer sniffed the air, acquainting himself to the crisps scents of the north. He had thought he knew winter and cold - his home was famous for its deadly winters, despite the hot springs and geysers that burst through its ground like pimples - but he had never been this far north. He wondered if it would smell like winter even as spring and summer rolled over this northern land.

Distracted from his musing, Hush turned towards the call that beckoned for his attention. Across the cold stream another wolf stood, his orange-brown eyes fixated on Hush. The silent wolf, wondering if he was a member of his new pack, this Sleeping Dragon, nodded, his pale eyes resting curiously on the other.