Blackfeather Woods friendly neighborhood spider-man

wintersbane patrols and while he is quick to claim he is always vigilant upon them the truth is that he's a bit distracted. distracted by the worries of how they're planning to stay afloat when they are so close to being non-existent. his recruitment drives have been unsuccessful — which is not overly surprising to him; the odds of success haven't been high from record. not to mention the two packs gunning for their heads since mou-titmouse-screech decided to bring them a captive and then turn tail and run. war would crush them if winter didn't do it before hand.

he's distracted when he nears the section of border that the woman meanders close-ish to. her dark grey pelage nearly fades into the backdrop while his worries and swimming thoughts take forefront. it's her white stockings that catch his attention in the end and for the barest of moments he thinks of her. eirlys. his mitten twin. it's been some time since he's thought of her and he casts his glacial gaze to the stranger, realizing immediately and without a second look that she is not his long lost sister.

you did not call, the tundrian asserts, steps coming to a halt as he faces the stranger in full — at least, wintersbane was fairly sure she didn't; surely he'd have heard it — so why do you linger?