Shadow Mountain and i hate the way the townspeople gather outside

It had seemed an impossible challenge, but he was more than willing to try.

They had told him to find his missing siblings, bring them back, so that the Keils might be monitored. Arnlith's missteps had brought their line shame, but there was still time, still a chance to restore the honor that could have been there, in a perfect world. His little brother had put an end to Arnlith's life, he'd heard. Ripped his head clean off.

He found the skull later.

He pissed on it.

Now, Zamael had been traveling for god knows how long, and there was no end in sight. No sign of Ali or Lana. Shaara had told him she'd found his scent going west, but that was only a rough map. After that, who knew where he had gone? Fuck, he could be dead by now. Both of them could be.

But he had to try.

Zamael entered the mountains, began his ascent. It was far from his favorite landscape--he preferred the sea cliffs, or a nice deciduous forest--but he'd have to deal with it for now. And there was some relief, he found; as he got higher, he saw open plains, stretching out on either side. He'd get down there eventually.

Shadows dappled his gray-hued pelt as he continued, and as he came round a bend, he saw a pale wolf standing, looking at scenery. He gave a low, wary chuff as he approached, not knowing whether he could trust the stranger. You couldn't trust anyone, least of all family. But maybe this man had valuable information--maybe he'd seen Alarian, somewhere.