Dragoncrest Cliffs we dance to the sound of sirens

Artaax had kept to himself since returning to the Cliffs, recovering in more ways than one. His time away had taken a lot out of him physically, and the events of that time had taken even more emotionally. But he had risen that day feeling better than he had in a while, though turmoil still battled around in his heart. A few days ago, he would have listened to it. But that was when he'd been weak, and now he was getting stronger. He would not listen. He would go back to normal, and all of the... stuff... would be forgotten. Maybe.

The white wolf was creeping around the lake within their territory when he heard his sister's call. He paused to take a few laps of water before turning to heed the summons. In the haze of his recent trauma, he couldn't exactly remember why Blixen might be calling him amongst a seemingly random group of mostly strangers, but he wouldn't find out by ignoring it. And besides, he was oddly intrigued at the prospect of seeing one of the other wolves that had been summoned.

Artaax straightened as he climbed up the cliffs to where his sister stood with someone he did not recognize. He nodded silently to Blixen in greeting before letting his gaze linger on the other female. He was taken aback by her appearance, which mirrored his in size, but was exactly the opposite in every other way. Where he was pale and pristine, she was dark and absolutely filthy. His eyes narrowed slightly with distaste before he looked away, scanning the landscape for others who would doubtless be joining them soon.