Northstar Vale you got hell to pay

a mess writing for a messier mess; a thread.

the morning is drab, the sky a dull overcast grey; lightened by the sun that cannot pierce the solid veil of clouds in the sky. wintersbane walks the borders of the vale that courtfall lays claim upon with cold eyes and purposeful steps. the action is familiar even in a terrain he has only freshly learned. he's sold his loyalty to many and more packs over the years but this is the first that has been based in the sunspires. upon the borders that remain unfortified by walls and towers of jagged teethstone he pays extra attention, adding his scent to the mixture of those that have came and patrolled before.

his progression is slow, leisurely. there is no scents upon these borders that shouldn't be and nothing of the territories that touch their own seems amiss. still, he is vigilant despite being unrushed. let it not be said that wintersbane is not a thorough man.