Dragoncrest Cliffs i'm ready now.

Blixen accepted his epic tale easily and was smart enough to not ask any further questions. She clearly knew him well enough to know that was all she would get because that was legitimately all he had to say on the matter. He would keep his run in with Kiwi to himself, as well as his encounters with the girl who’d tried to clean him and the one who’d he’d had a whose-life-is-more-tragic shouting match with. Not because he didn’t want his sister to know, but simply because he didn’t see the point.

The news she proceeded to share was not expected, yet the feisripa took it in stride. The cliffs did not mean for him what they once did, only the family he had left here. And if they were leaving (and by they I mean Blixen and Mallaidh - the rest could go fuck themselves), then so would he. The only thing he didn’t particularly like was their choice of Trigeda. He had never trusted wolves from their sister packs, but he was learning to reconsider where he placed his trust. He had once trusted his mothers to never leave him, and seeing as that had worked out so well for him, he considered that perhaps he ought to alter the way he trusted.

He also thought it was stupid to leave because of Rusalka, but he let that go too.

”When?” was all Artaax asked. His gaze flickered briefly to where Rose has stood, only now noticing she had slipped away at some point. He wondered who else would join them, but held that question back for now.