Lone Star Mountain Shadows

The only reason Warbone had to return to Lone Star, was to reflect on his thoughts about death, and to perhaps catch a glimpse of the willows. Though he no longer coveted them or had the mental fixation on obtaining them, his brain had not yet been rewired to forget them, so he stood now, eye narrowed against the cold air, as he peered north and imagined he could see things even beyond his range of vision. It would have been nice to be a bird in that moment, he imagined, but in the end he rationalized that nothing could compare to the exhilaration of being truly just a wolf.

The copper titan had come too high for his tastes, so he wasn't up there long before beginning to wind his way back down, angling himself towards the vale. The sight of a large, lounging black wolf, drew his gaze as he descended, and he thought to join him on the ledge, and find out if his soul was as lost as his own had been.

Unable to conjure the sentiment, though, Warbone simply made to descend another way, so as not to disturb the stranger fully. That being said, he made an effort to make himself heard as he moved, if only so that he couldn't be accused of sneaking about.