Permafrost Hollows through indiscriminate suffering men know fear

tagging for reference because i made derg's thread before this one. *tries to keep a semi-stable but mostly chaotic timeline*.

wintersbane doesn't trudge too far into the bracken woods before he turns and retraces his steps back out and back towards the hollow. the woods wasn't going to work. maybe for wolves that didn't mind the thorny underbrush cutting at their legs and tangling in their fur ...but wintersbane vain as he was wasn't one of them. there were territories to the north yet to poke about and explore — and to ascertain what he suspects to be true ...that the taiga is otherwise scarce with packs but there would be time for that another day.

he's close to permafrost hollows when the howl rises up, slicing through the chilled air. the creator of the call is near and for a brief moment wintersbane is hit with a strange sense of déjà vu; strange because it is both familiar — the warrior'd intercepted plenty of calls during his time with blackfeather — and foreign — because trying to bring together a group of wolves to form a pack and having someone call from the confines of a pack either drawn by his or @Derg's scent is a novelty.

it doesn't take the tundrian long to find her and despite the muted grays, creams and browns of the permafrost hollows in the winter it is not hard to discern her from the landscape. though ...at first glimpse he almost mistakes her for derg. their agouti coloring is similar and he's glad she did call or else it might've gotten a bit awkward. terveisiä, he breaks the silence that follows his approach that has slowed to a stop a few feet from her, his glacial gaze appraising and curious. it's been some time since he's spoken tundrian so openly and so often. he supposes that in this, in striking out to find his own path and creating something inspired so thoroughly by his tundrian ancestors ( what he remembers and imagines of them ) and his mother makes him feel closer to her. greetings. he offers the translation in common tongue a few moments later with a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips beholding a brief and private spell of nostalgia.

you called? borders were not existent yet — because he was still technically scouting out the options despite that that he felt an undeniable pull towards the permafrost hollow; but there was a rise of something that felt suspiciously territorial all the same brewing within his chest. for the most part he keeps it out of his body language except for the slight rise of his chin which was always his tell-tale in the end — that proud and 'i'm in command' hold of his head that he's been practicing since he started squabbling with his siblings ( namely mallaidh ) to assert litter dominance.