Blacktail Deer Plateau That Little Fallen Angel

Kjalarr's travels had taken him south of Ankyra Sound, cutting across the Sunspire mountains as if he were heading to Neverwinter Forest but the northman did not venture so far. He had recently caught up with the Frostfur's and thus did not see the need to make excessive trips. Kjalarr told himself that the less time he spent there, perhaps the less trouble Charon might potentially be for them. Charon had no real reason to pick a fight with them but Kjalarr was not above putting anything past the [s]child king[/i] alpha male of Moonspear. He was not sure what his intentions were, other than to breach out and stretch his legs outside of Ankyra Sound and Stavanger Bay. He considered poking around Ravensblood Forest, remembering that his mother had spoken that Ragnar had once sought to claim it as his own before forcing the matter of leading his wolves south instead at the impending threat of a too close neighboring pack. 

Instead, Kjalarr found himself veering off, south of Ravensblood and into a territory he'd come to know as Blacktail Deer Plateau. A pack had once resided here but any and all traces of their existence beyond the abandoned dens that littered the dark pine and silver birch trees was gone, worn away with their absence. He could no longer hear the call of the sea in the distance, far too inland than he was used to, admittedly. He had not realized until he joined the ranks of Saltwinter how much he had truly missed the ocean with all it's wonders and it's hidden power. A force of nature, Kjalarr had been told (and believed), unlike any other.

Caught up in his thoughts, the viking did not immediately realize that he was not as alone as he'd first assumed. It was not until he'd looped back around and caught onto her scent trail that his lack of solitude hit him and jarred him from his absent thoughts. He did not see her at first, her shadow draped form blending in all too well with the monochrome backdrop of the colorless world Kjalarr saw in; but he could smell her and further more he could hear each steady breath she took, the slight and subconscious shift of weight. Cautiously, the young berserker crept forth ceasing his motions only when he was able to discern her from the world around her and let out a low chuff of greeting, or to at least (hopefully) alert her to his presence for she seemed as lost in her thoughts as he'd been mere moments ago.