Moonspear And show me how to be whole again.

The weather had delayed him. Upon approach to Neverwinter's southernmost border, Talion was buffeted by a harsh and biting cold wind. Eventually came frozen hail along with it, and so the peppered Roux-Abrhen retreated into the safety of the woods. Nestling down among the leaf litter deep within the forest, he listened to the wind howl overhead for hours - long after darkness had fallen.

Fresh snow lay thick on the earth, slowing the young hunter's pace considerably. It clung to his elbows in uncomfortable clumps, causing him to pause regularly to scratch it off and free his joints. He shivered, feeling the dip in temperature right at the heart of him, but still he kept moving. It had taken Talion much longer than anticipated to return, and he was eager not to disappoint the raven wolfess who awaited news from him.

By the time he arrived at Moonspear's border, Talion was exhausted and dishevelled. His fur was ruffled, pointed in all directions from the wind and his undersides sodden from melted snow. As he fought the urge to slump at the foot of the mountain, a flurry of snow began to float gently from the clouded navy sky above. Talion turned his lavender-blue eyes up to observe the snowflakes for a quiet moment before he closed them gently sent forth a request for Hydra.