Swiftcurrent Creek everything the light touches

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This would indeed be a trial.

One thing that remained unclear to Tryphon (and surely to the wolves he aligned himself with) was the fact that he had an ungodly fear of water. It wasn't something he was entirely aware of either; he could look at it, drink it, explore around rivers or visit some sections of the coast, and never be the wiser. But as soon as the boy came anywhere near wading in to it or perhaps swimming, things would change.

At this point Tryphon was unaware of how deeply-rooted his anxiety about water actually was. He barely remembered the chaotic state of his mind when he'd met a trio of strangers within the ice-caves up north; yet when he looked upon their chosen prey, he felt a shudder race down his spine and through his haunches.

But he wasn't about to show weakness before this lone wolf. Peaceful though she was, it could've been an act. He cast her a curious look, almost accusatory, as if she had planned this all alone — and then moved towards the strange rodents with some care. He crept as quietly as he could towards the stream and then hunkered down, watching them with wide eyes, although he seemed to be listening for movement from his companion. The next step, or perhaps anticipating a trap. 


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