Whitebark Stream It's deciding where to die and deciding where to fight

Artyom blinked, twitched a whisker as he considered the newly-returned Kavik's words. If he felt that trust was something to be earned, what was it that made him take it all for granted? The pale leader suspected that perhaps his kindness might've led the dark rogue to believe him weak or foolish, which was far from the truth. Artyom, who strived to see the best in each of his fellow wolves, could harbour dangerous contempt if the need arose. He hoped that Kavik would not disrespect his gentle nature a second time.

"All I ask of you," he said, a solemn edge to his tone, "is that you forgive yourself. You made a mistake, but you will learn from it." He offered the raven brute a thin smile, a hopeful one. "It is not my business to ask what made you stray," Artyom gestured with his ivory snout, moved to lead his comrade away from the territory outskirts and deeper into Whitebark territory, "but I want you to know that, if ever you find yourself lost, there is no shame in that feeling. Instead of turning away, take strength from those that need you." Grezig needed him, even if she wasn't prepared to admit it.

Their unborn pups needed him.

Whitebark Stream needed him.