Gilded Bay strength before weakness

If, by chance, Guildenstern had been the type to reflect on his own actions, he might have thought about what had actually driven him to adopt the lifestyle he had. Their childhoods had been challenging for the both of them, but they seemed to have adopted different styles of living. The pallid knight did not see this as an issue, because he did not think on it at all. The towering brute had learned well enough that reflection would cost him large portions of his sanity. He had seen madness take stronger wolves than even himself, always sparked by thoughts of the past and the reason for their actions. Instinct was his guide in most things, and it would not dissuade him then.
 
A surprise offer to visit the island that Rosencrantz had though to call his home. The tone in which he had issued his invitation had been deeply genuine. For a moment, Guildenstern felt a creeping shock at such a thing. The pale voyager would never have imagined that his brother would extend such a pitch, in that manner. None of this reflected on his stoic features, of course. The specter blinked slowly once before he bowed his head curtly. In this action, his dark lips curled downward into a thoughtful frown. There was a chance that Rosencrantz had truly discovered the thing that would end his wandering days.
 
“Perhaps,” the white knight mused aloud. “It will be some time before I do. There is much to be discovered in this new territory.” It should not have surprised Rosencrantz to hear such things. Guildenstern had always been a difficult beast to hold down, and he never acted on something unless he was entirely sure that it had been his decision to do so.