Neverwinter Forest if the high was worth the pain

For @Scimitar but I left it all welcome just in case anyone else wanted to hop in. :D Also, kind of played loose with the timelines. xD

For all intents and purposes Kjalarr had more or less acted as if Moonspear and all of it's residents had fallen off the face of the earth. They might as well have; and Charon's childish reaction to his choice to leave had been nothing short of the final nail in his the coffin. Kjalarr had, had enough of it and he swore to Odin himself that if he ever came across the Ostrega again he would kill him: as Ragnar had done to Björn; and he felt no guilt about the murderous fire of determination within him, either. As far as Kjalarr could be arsed to care, Charon deserved it; but for now as long as the Ostrega clung to his precious mountain he would be safe from Kjalarr. It had been on his journey after the scuffle as to which Thistle Cloud had broken up before it could get serious (and it would have would she have not intervened) back to Saltwinter that he'd thought he'd picked up Scimitar's scent; but he'd been eager to get back to Saltwinter and hadn't stopped to investigate it further, telling himself that his adoptive father couldn't possibly be back in the Teekon.

For a while, Kjalarr had forgotten about it, at least, until the small trip to Donnelaith Kjalarr had taken with Vlad and Caiaphas had gotten his curiosity piqued again, wondering if he really had picked up Scimitar Frostfur's scent or if he'd simply imagined it. It was only after alerting Vlad and Caiaphas to his small journey the once aspiring outrider had taken to the mountains of sunspire, cutting through them as opposed to following the coast, taking the shortcut to get him to Neverwinter faster, his steps slowing to a cease a more than respectful distance between their borders and his body. He recognized two of the strong scents upon their borders, mixed with one he did not. Scimitar and Kaskara. They were really here. 

His heart gave a fluttering palpitation within it's prison of flesh and bone and lifting his muzzle towards the darkened sky of dusk Kjalarr let out a low howl, wanting to see his adoptive family once more. Or those of them that had come back, anyway. There was distinct absence of Bazi's scent and though this confused Kjalarr he figured that they would catch up in time; providing he did not receive the same kind of welcome from them as he had Charon. As to which, he hoped wouldn't happen. He was fighting with one supposed family and that was enough for him for a lifetime.