Blackfeather Woods but there's chaos brewing underneath my skin

looking for a guardian thread! it's on the borders so this is welcome to anyone!

the snow crunches under his weight as he moves along the borders, pausing to brush the accumulated snow — wet and thus heavier than light snow — off of the skulls and skeletons that decorate their borders. it's a menial task really, but, patrols were important and there hasn't been a moment following the escape of the redhawk women and the trespass of the redhawks that had came to look for her that wintersbane hadn't been on edge. he feels like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap or release at any given moment. there is too much that he does not want to lose because of a mistake; a mistake that, unfortunately, affects more than just the one responsible.

he swipes at a skull with more vigor than he means to and it topples over. he lets out a small huff, a noise than veils the extent of his worry and his frustration. it seethes beneath the surface of his skin like a miasma of lava ready to burst fort in a violent eruption; when it does let loose ...it will be ugly. he fixes the skull, nudging it back into place with his snout. wintersbane draws his tongue across his lips, a quick and furious swipe. he gives his pelage a hefty shake, ridding it of snow that has accumulated on his back and presses on, vigilant and stalwart as he rolls his shoulders and attempts to focus on the task at hand as opposed to his repressed feelings. he has done well to keep them in check, reminding himself over and over like a broken record that it is out of his paws and it is not his place.

he thinks he's doing okay, so far.

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