Moonspear the thing about gods is that they're eternal

ever since vela's almost capture on the borders drogon took to them with a renewed vigor, doubling his patrols. it is quiet and iliksis does not return ( for the time being, at least ). he trains with her in their respective downtime, trying to find a way that she could escape a scruff hold if she became a victim of kidnapping again. drogon does not want to think that it happening a second time is a possibility but he's pragmatic and likes to prepare for as many situations as he can. he believes in and prays to no deity; rather thinks that the good and the bad in the world are defined by wolves themselves and are not guided by anything other than one's own moral compass. but it is easier to blame some non-existent deity than it is to take responsibility for one's own actions in the effort to lessen the severity of consequences.

he pauses at a section of the borders where the scent is a bit lacking. he lifts his leg to urinate upon the invisible borders, adding his scent to the mix, kicking up a few clumps of grass and hardened dirt in addition before he moves onwards, wondering if it's wise to make tentative plans to see vela. he gets the feeling that charon doesn't overly approve of ...whatever it was that he and vela were becoming to one another ( were they becoming something? ). drogon hasn't examined the blossoming thing between them in any grand detail and beyond that it's not fair to assume that just because he's got stirrings of feelings for the ruhtinatar that she feels the same.

as she does most times they are apart vela worms her way into his thoughts and the ansbjørn attempts to tuck her away to a corner of his mind so he may better focus upon the last stretch of his patrol.