Stavanger Bay the night of long fangs

Rannoch’s time with Deirdre had been a breath of fresh air and despite all of his previous apprehensions of the magick she spoke of, it somehow had healed him. He was renewed from the trip in both spirit and health and was ready to take on whatever the dark Leviathan had to throw his way.

He was resting from the trek when he was beckoned from the den. Though he was not asleep, he had shut his eyes and simply attempted to keep any thoughts he had at bay. The white witch had been working on combatting the darkness within him, but, somehow, it was still winning.

Pushing himself onto his paws and answered Skellige’s call. Stepping out to the den, Rannoch looked to the alpha with a questioning expression but did not speak a word.