Kildeer Rest bury the hatchet; bury a friend

for the second time within the week wintersbane makes his way to kildeer rest, though unlike the first time he was not necessarily tracking the movements of the small, now spooked from the hunt, herd. no doubt it would be some time before they circled back to the rest ( if they did at all ) and he wasn't too bothered. there were other, larger herds spread throughout the taiga. no, he does a routine sweep of the territories nearest to permafrost hollow before he would branch out in the territories more far away, taking stock ( again ) of resources, prey movements, and looking to see if any lone wolves had wandered this far east.

wintersbane knows that, once more, he will have to venture out in a more in-depth recruitment drive soon but he is glad to be home, to be giving the vartija's actual foundation the attention and time it deserves, to be among the wolves he has already amassed that he is reluctant to leave it so soon after his return. derg and faeryn have expressed interest in helping to recruit and he assumes that vonn is trying while he works to repay his life debt and though wintersbane is of the belief that as sotaherra the exhaustive job should be his own but he's not too proud to not allow those loyal to him to not assist if they want to.

a sweep of his glacial gaze catches what strikes him as out of the ordinary in the kildeer rest today. another is draped elegantly over it as if the rocky bed is built for a queen. he smells her, and then her kill, the pungent scent of blood unmistakable. with interest piqued and potential opportunity laid out before him he shifts his direction and lets out a low chuff to announce his presence upon his approach, footfalls slowing to a cease a few feet away not wanting to encroach upon her personal space.