Sawtooth Spire call me he of the two faces

The ground is dusted in a fresh layer of snow that builds with the passing hours of the early morning as it continues to fall in fat, wet snowflakes that occasionally splat against his muzzle causing him to wince as it splatters ice cold droplets and the chill seeps past the short fur of his muzzle. His coat is coarse and heavy for the winter months but he’s got no arctic blood in him and it’s evident in the dislike which he moves through the snow. His paws are soaked and outer coat along his spine is unpleasantly damp. Foxfang Ravine gets cold but it rarely snows — a mercy that evidently could not be spared him here — and he’s struck with the alarming actualization that he misses home. Yet …yet he couldn’t. His mission comes from Boadicea — no, his grandmother — to search for Arturo Fearghal. When the Warrior Queen of Quicksilver Hollow comes knocking and chooses you for a mission you don’t just decline.

It’s not like Rhysand was never aware of his parentage despite that he’d never actually met his mobster father. According to his mother, it had all been arranged to solidify the alliance between the two packs. The cutthroat life of consorting with the Ceannasach and desiring his unyielding favor and protection. Rhysand was an insurance: a Fearghal would live and be raised by Foxfang Ravine wolves to keep the peace, to pay for the protection of the Hollow wolves. It wasn’t a bad deal and Rhysand had never been bothered by the role he’s played having been kept out of pack politics until …well, until he wasn’t.

Golden eyes narrow and he slips in a particularly slick patch of snow and recoils back as he attempts to descend the Spire. He peers down cautiously, turns around and thinks that it’s best he remains until the snow clears a bit. He doesn’t particularly fancy being isolated and trapped up here but there are some patches of woods ( surely that means there’s at least small woodland creatures ), plenty of fresh water and he’s passed a cave or two that would provide shelter. It’s a cavern he seeks shelter in now, giving pause at it’s yawning mouth to allow his eyes to adjust before he takes a few cautious steps into it’s darkened depths.

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