The Sentinels ageless beauty

looking for some Stormrift bois & girls

Well, this place was sad as fuck.

But perhaps it was just as well. A shitty place for a shitty guy. Maybe he ought to settle here for good. Zamael's travels had given him nothing but further depression, and with tail between his legs, he had returned to the Teekon Wilds, looking for. . .well, he didn't really know.

Alarian, maybe. Had his brother forgiven him for his abrupt departure? He wasn't sure if he could face him, yet. But apart from Alarian--oh, Eris, too; he felt a pang as he realized he'd forgotten about her. God, what a piece of shit he was--all other things he sought were existential, intrinsic. He didn't really give a fuck about anyone here, outside his siblings.

And he hoped they didn't give a fuck about him.

The gray wolf, his fur raggedy from a lapse in grooming habits and constant, sea-battered travel, settled down next to a charred stump, fiery eyes flashing around the place. Yeah, it would do for now. At least until he figured out what he was doing next.