Firestone Hot Springs this will never end

The spectre was never gone long or far from his shadow, though Solpallur did not make himself known as he stalked behind. He did not share the same hringja that had drawn his counterpart but he felt a similar pull to follow him. The long, coiling tendrils of heat into the cool night air were enough on their own, though he did not desire to linger in the warmth for long. Perhaps in the dead of winter, where the nights were longest, he would find himself here of his own accord.

But for now, he trailed behind, only occasionally catching a flash of stark white where the moonlight shone down through the slow crawl of broken clouds. The flatland was an open place, a good place to take in the night sky had he been able to. A way to orient himself and feel a natural peace that he did not normally seek or have when daylight came. Distraction grasped him then, pulling him away from his trail of Stjornuati, and Solpallur veered off into the night.

If something of interest came along, he would join his bróðir again.

cameo to have this in my log, might pitch him back in