Two Rivers Isle for we don’t care about it

After he had been pulled to the front of their woods, Cry had eventually found who had stood before them, thanks to Morgan giving him a forewarning. He nodded appreciatively at the timber sheathed brute, and confirmed his request for backup with a “Please.” He was grateful Morgan knew something could come of this- they had Family to protect.

Once Morgan had left, Cry knew he couldn’t sit around and wait for these wolves to decide what type of debauchery they wanted to spring first, he rather illustrate to them how well these woods were watched. 

Breathtaking glacials pulled forth from from the shadows of the Shadewood Keep’s intimidating void-like threshold as Cry made himself known. A true Phantom, his steps were silent as he brought his inky athletic form to stand tall but inquisitive across the other side of the brink to the riverbank.  Without hesitation nor pause, the ebony ghost greeted the trio. 

“Welcome to Shadewood Keep. Were you all looking for someone?” His artic gaze drifted through his sentence to each of the triad, only to return to the male who stood before both of their escort. A charcoal fellow who looked oddly familiar. Artic gems narrowed at the slate dark fellow, and Cry deduced that these were not members of the Nightmare- this was a wolf he and Gwen had hunted with not too far long ago. They had feared on a caribou together before the dark male had thanked them and bid farewell, taking a nice shank back to his own home. He was a strong one, willing to brave wilderness and other hungry predators alike to feed his family. 

“Issun?” the baritones asked with a slightly incredulous icicle slung through the name. “Seems you fared well.” Or so he thought.