Swiftcurrent Creek Ghosts

For now... how enigmatic. Curiosity caused Valtyr's ears to prick as he waited for the woman to continue her story. However, it seemed she did not care to divulge what caused her to wander. The Sveijarn blinked slowly.... delibritely... calmly... as he pondered the sandy she-wolf's retort. "Well," his lips smacked in thought, "I'm somewhat of a traveler, too. I grew up in Teekon... with the Blackdeer Plateau Pack. I've been gone a while... and it felt like it was time to come home." Home. The word made Valtyr's chest tighten. Home was truly with his Sybil and their children, in the sweeping forests and fields of the East. But now, Sybil was six feet under and pushing daisies. His sweet, beloved, silver wife -- taken before her time.

Without missing a beat he continued, "my name's Valtyr Sveijarn. What's yours, traveler?" The man's amber eyes cast a warm gaze towards his company, as to not betray his blue and aching heart.