Moonsong Glacier the wayward weeping voices that you will hear

His vantage point only afforded him so much, for the words of another were swift to steal his attention away. Wherever the spry she-wolf had come from was lost on him—there were many cracks and crevices along this particular ridge of ice and he presumed it was there that she had come from. He hadn't planned on encountering anyone so soon, least of all on some ice slab nestled against the mountain.

But he wasn't alone in this trek either; he heard the crunch of snow and ice behind him, his head turning just in time to see Revui slip into his field of view. The boy had a purposeful stride and it took no rocket science to follow where exactly he was heading. Dirge was torn for a moment, half-inclined to follow him just as much as he wanted to call out to him and stop for however futile it would have been. The season had him riled, but how much? How much of his father existed in the boy? He couldn't help but wonder this to himself as he moved to follow him. Perhaps the girl hadn't meant to call for Dirge, but rather Revui; perhaps things were not so dark as they seemed, or felt.