The Sunspire Stuck in Colder Weather

It was dark enough around the wanderer for the forest to take on a gloomy feeling, an eeriness, but not so dark that he couldn't see. A subtle gray was cast over everything, dulling all that it contacted - it was murky, dark, and deep, this forest. Njal mentally reminded himself to never wander between the mountains again - and caught himself thinking, 'Is it always dark here?' prior to a voice startling the thoughts away.

The stranger was a dark blot of ink between the trees, higher upon the slope, but in direct line with the wind. It had been easy to track his way this far, but now Njal was apprehensive. He stopped his march and stared, narrow-eyed, towards the hound which bellowed such orders.

"What brings you so far from the creek, friend?" Friend?

Something clicked in his head, there. The scent and the voice matched up, but the realization that it was Jace standing before him did not lessen the stiffness of his limbs, or the direct manner in which Njal faced him.

"That is my business, and it does not concern you, friend." He rumbled casually, or rather, as casually as he could. There was a biting tone to the words that could not be ignored. The warden did not linger long after that, and began to stalk up the mountain, winding closer to Jace as the moments passed.