Neverwinter Forest if the high was worth the pain

Kaskara’s gentle sweeps of her muzzle drew a small smile to his face, despite his worry that he had disappointed the boy before him. Was he much of a role model? At one point, he had believed he could have been. His first days within the Wilds had him feel so – and yet as time pressed on, and the world had become more tainted, Scimitar was now a shell of the man he had initially set out to be. One who had left the she-wolf who had birthed him two litters for the love of another – and who had moved his family far too many times.
 
“You’re not keeping us,” he offered quietly, but offering a nod of understanding that Kjalarr would perhaps rather meet Eshe at a later date. He had no doubt that the youthful man would need to return to the pack he had pledged his loyalty to – his thoughts darkening at the thought that it had not worked out between him and his blood kin.  “Visit us soon, son,” he spoke, sweeping forward to nudge the white boys cheek in affection – despite everything, Jorunn would always be looked upon as their family.