Blackfeather Woods And yet when King Laugh come, he make them all dance to the tune he play.

Winter was slowly, but surely, making way for Spring. The cold world was slowly melting around the young Silencer as it made way for new life to blossom. Much to his nature, Atshen did not stop to appreciate the small wonder. Instead, he often found himself even more irritable over the slush and how it made it difficult to travel around. Though, admittedly, he was quite fond of the warmer weather. He would never openly express such feeling, but, he sure felt them beneath his stoic facade. 

His wandering brought him to a part of the territory he didn't visit often. Though he hadn't realized exactly what he was doing, he soon felt himself following Miraak's scent trail. He made his way towards the heartlands of Redgrove. Upon seeing the Executioner, Atshen paused at a distance and looked to the direction in which the violet-eyed man was looking. It appeared as though the older wolf was looking to a skull and Atshen found himself all the more interested in staying. 

"Is that somebody you killed?" he called in his signature monotone, not taking in any of the natural beauty that the tribut held as he kept his distance.