Horizon Ridge you are free from the bonds that bound you

A voice calls out to him and his head turns—at first he mistakes the distant figure to be Stjornuati. The coloration is almost spot on, but this one lacks the livery of his pallid brother, and the adumbral hairs along his spine and shoulders rise. He curls a lip back to flash a glimmer of teeth—a warning, do not come any closer—but Solpallur does not make any move to receive company.

His body language is enough to do the talking for him.

While he did not turn to fully face the stranger, he questioned why he was being followed with a narrow-eyed glower. Would this be like his last encounter? Or perhaps the one before it, where curiosity had drawn a skittish deer of a woman to him to entertain conversation in exchange for information. Whether it was battle or otherwise, he stood ready. Chances were, Stjornuati would be circling back around to him before too long, and his brother was truly the talker of the duo.

Nevertheless, Solpallur would always try.