Ravensblood Forest the long rain

You are so welcome to reply once more to get this one closed out. If you'd rather not, you can just archive it! I'd be more than happy to have a more recent one, though. (:

Her tongue danced over his name with a strange precision. She did attempt to mimic his pronunciation with caution, but he did not expect that she would ever forget the way it was spoken. He was a man of conviction, and even when he spoke his calling to a stranger, the wraith had no intention of allowing them to leave without knowing the weight that it carried. He was a Cairn, and though he had been banished from his home with nothing more than a lashing of teeth and words, he would not allow his own legacy to be tarnished. There was a certain feeling in his gut that forced him to realize that he would never allow another to take what was rightfully his.
 
Though that fire burned in his gut, the flashing image of Ksenia erupted through the hell-forged musings in his own mind. Her luring silver gaze caused his gut to churn and the fur along his neck and spine to prickle with unease. If she was in the Teekon, he was convinced that nothing good would come. His pale sibling was an omen of death… and if she was there, he knew the others could not be far behind.
 
The pale woman spoke to him in reflection of another wolf – someone she had cared deeply for – and he returned the words with nothing more than a stale expression on his gruff face. Skellige did not have a comment on the yearnings she had once had for a perfect stranger. Instead, he found himself still bothered by the thought of Ksenia’s eyes on the back of him. Ruffling his own coat a bit, the wraith moved suddenly so that he could feel the rain against his pelt and flesh. It was time to return to the sea. The female mentioned a liking for his company. Flashing his gaze to her face once more, he frowned. “Come to the coast. I am not likely to leave her side again,” he rasped to her with a flash of his wild eyes.
 
Without another word, the inky male had set his course and his lengthy limbs carried him along a beaten path, away from the woman. He cared very little if she actually sought him out; if her longing did not cease and she found herself curiously thinking of him, she would find him near the wicked tug of the ocean waves. He did not believe himself to be safe unless he could put the sands beneath his feet.