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Goldry nodded. He felt it too – restlessness. That gnawing sensation in his stomach and that jittery electricity pumping through his body with each solid heartbeat. His legs fidgeted when he tried to sleep. His thoughts roved about or lurked in silence as his senses alerted him to everything around him. He could have forced himself to settle down, but he saw no harm in allowing his body to exhaust itself of its nerves. Which was why, like Vehiron, he stood on this slate-gray, windswept ledge in a cold and humid mist in the dead of night. Vehiron posed a question that caught him off-guard. Goldry canted his head as he met Vehiron's stare. His deep blue eyes hungered for a satisfying answer; the truth, or something better, but nothing as simple as “winter is coming.” Goldry's yellow eyes met them, wavering not, but probing the windows of Vehiron's soul in return. And what he thought he saw within made Goldry grin with the smallest, most microscopic twitch of the lips that it was almost invisible. Goldry let the silence stretch between them a little longer before he blinked. “Well, winter –” he paused, seemed to reconsider, then frowned slightly. He glanced back down at the basin of black trees, which looked like nothing so much as decayed teeth in the mouth of the mountain. “No. The truth is, I don't know much about Tartok. You say this is a division – that only confirms my belief this pack is a branch in a great tree. And although it's new, Tonravik seems like a leader who can make this branch grow strong. “But that's not why I joined. Not for power or glory.” He glanced at Vehiron, then, with a somewhat heavy expression. He let a breath of silence pass. “I don't care to be part of the Tartok tree,” he said. Goldry felt a jolt of adrenaline surge through him. What was he saying? What would Vehiron think? What if someone overheard him? Especially Aguta and Tonravik? It was the truth; it had always been the truth even when he joined, but it was lunacy to say something so bold to another member of Tartok. Or was it? He sighed and flashed Vehiron a grin. “I joined because I want to do good,” he said. “Well no, I came to this land in search of peace. I joined Tartok on a whim, because it reminded me of my home. But now I think I can do a lot of good here...” he trailed off. “Idealistic, I know...” he said quietly. “What about you, Vehiron? Why did you join?”

Table by Noire