Fairspell Meadow November skies

It was hard to hear over the sound of the locusts, the buzzing that never ceased but he heard her enough to make out her words. “Yeah,” Kjalarr agreed. It was for the best that the two parties part ways and continue back onto their respective paths. She spoke of something called a Sleeping Dragon and that she lived there — surely the name of the pack that she fled to, he concluded — though Kjalarr found this information as a surprise. He had expected her to have gone back to the Caldera but it turned out she went to a territory and pack that he wasn't (even vaguely) familiar with. “Yeah, if I'm up that way I'll stop by,” He promised though he wasn't sure if he'd ever have a need to venture her way, aside from a social visit. It hadn't, at first, but now it felt kind of ...awkward to him. Speaking with his twin's ex ...the girl that had, probably, broken Floki's heart. Perhaps it wasn't his business but the truth was much more complicated than that, for Kjalarr as a twin who was cosmically in-tune with Floki without even trying and despite their distance.

It would have been easy to blame Wildfire for it all, even not knowing any of the situation but for the sake of their friendship he tucked any bitterness he might have been feeling about it away. Presently, Kjalarr wasn't so sure it was his own bitterness (perhaps it was, but it was hard to tell sometimes); and really he didn't have much room to talk though he (wrongly?) assumed that his leaving Moonspear hadn't hurt anyone either way. “Same to you.” He returned, watching the two of them disappear into the swarm before he turned with a low grunt and headed back the direction he'd came, wondering how long it would take him to get back to Saltwinter, while hoping that the swarm would thin by then.