Swiftcurrent Creek Look for the girl with the broken smile.

*tosses an old man at Ibis*

Boy, oh boy. Did Artax know what it was like to start walking and never stop. He'd done it at least a dozen times in his life now. Maybe more. He didn't care to keep track. Settling down had always felt so stifling. Every time somebody wanted him to stay, he wanted to go. Every time somebody wanted him to ~fall in love~, he couldn't wait to let them down. Every time a leader considered promoting him, that was his queue to get back on the road.

No, there was no tying down this Eyjolfur. He usually went back and visit his parents, but he hadn't this year. There was the looming sense of dread that they simply wouldn't be there any longer. They'd had him young, the first year they'd been able to, and they'd never left that place. It was that kind of life that Artax did not want. He was plenty content to live out his days as he'd always done: wandering from place to place.

Once more, thirst drove him toward a riverbank. Once more, he was surprised (although he shouldn't have been) to find another wolf on his way there. Clearing his throat so as not to startle her, Jorma spoke. Nice day, innit?