Whitebark Stream I clearly looked happy

empyrean was no more, thoroughly destroyed singlehandedly by the bhe's (ex?)mate; carrier of the pale plague. his death chased them — rightfully so — from the lair and now salvatore finds himself worrying about if any of them that had gotten close enough to have gotten injured by him or injure him themselves have begun incubating it. salvatore keeps his distance all the same, wondering if the leader of the wolves that have taken them in knows. it puts the blackbird on edge and he keeps himself busy learning the layout of this new territory and it's borders and figures that, at some point, he should familiarize himself with the stream's guardians.

it's snowing; again. the white-barked aspens and birches offer ample shelter from the worst of it all the way up to the stream's banks. singular coalglow gaze scans upstream and then downstream where movement locks his gaze. he recognizes the dark furred woman vaguely as empyrean from their group trek to the stream though her name is an unknown, having not been formally introduced to her.

salvatore doesn't call out to her immediately, instead pausing to take a small drink of the stream water before finally letting out a chuff to garner her attention — if she has not noticed him already.