Following Tuwawi's offer and his acceptance of said offer, Týr did not venture too far away from the territory that Njal and Tuwawi intended to claim for the simple sake of not wanting to miss her call. The call that would solidify their claim and make their vision into a reality. Instead, he lingered near creating caches throughout the territory the intended to claim and filling them gradually with catches. He was capable of doing that, at least, glad that he had something to do because wandering around the territory simply waiting for the howl would have, very likely, driven Týr mad. He wanted to help the pair in any way that he could, while understanding until they were actually established that he did not actually have much of a role. He couldn't do anything to speed the process along. Patience, the young Rekkr had came to learn long ago was a valuable virtue but not only that he wanted to implore with any sense of laziness.
It was as the sun had began it's descent into the horizon, chased by the luminescent moon and star littered sky of the velvet night that Týr covered the cache he had disrupted to add his catch: a fox that had nearly, reminiscent of his failed hunt that Haunter had witnessed, escaped his clutches. It was luck alone that the Rekkr had been able to out maneuver the slippery little vixen and when he had caught her he had felt victorious. He covered the disturbed hole in the ground with the dirt he had unearthed, and lifted his leg to mark it so other predators would not disturb it. He had considered traveling south west to Stavanger Bay, to speak to his father again but for the sake of not wanting to miss anything and knowing that his place was here even if the pack had not yet been created.
In the following moments Týr was immensely glad that he hadn't took a venture south west for his soon to be fire kissed Queen's voice rose into the rapidly fading dusk calling out for him. It did not hold the urgency of a founding pack but the young Rekkr was not taught to ignore summons. Especially, from his superiors — even those soon to be. He headed in her direction with a quickened pace and came across her quickly, pace slowing as a soft smile began to tug at the corners of his lips. Hello, Drottning,
Týr greeted Tuwawi with a respectful bow of his head, drawing near to her to place a submissive lick her under her chin before he pulled back giving her space. He preferred his native language word for Queen over the common tongue version. It sounded more melodic to him though that might have been because it was his assumed first language.
a crime so old as the sky and bone