Qeya River outstretched arm, and upturned hand

imrathil had been thinking much along the same thoughts as wardruna; that such a culture would be ultimately inhospitable, and end surely with his demise. long ago imrathil had thrown away his fondness for life, for the storied events of his life had left him, and in some ways he was simply a body, and little more.

he rounded his shoulders, touched by wardruna's concern for him. "i would be welcome in very few places - and i think, the same would go for you." he shared a quiet look with his guardian, a look both reserved yet sympathetic: "we are a sorry lot." imrathil could not imagine many wolves would find it good news that their wizened forms shadowed their doorstep - the two looked like a rough pair, and many wolves were quick to judge off of appearance alone.

"maybe we could. although, it seems others have made a place for themselves here." he was referring to the packs that bordered their progress; even through the overwhelming scent of the river he could detect nearby the presence of a stronghold.