Horizon Ridge you are free from the bonds that bound you

Oh, that’s what this was. Recruitment. It wasn’t the first time someone had hung an offer out to him—it certainly wouldn’t be the last time either. Winter was coming and it was a swift, deadly season to those who were not prepared. There are words in there that he is well acquainted with too, survivors and warriors. Keywords plucked from a job description for a resume and here was Solpallur being rightly cast.

To say he wasn’t tempted for the briefest of moments to learn more would have been a lie. The wolf’s suggestive offer was a very good ad in the storefront window of the world; it may as well have been a great big neon sign flashing DETAILS INSIDE. He rolled his shoulders in a way that was not quite a shrug, but close enough; he shrugged off some of the tension that he felt.

This must have been why he was being followed. This one, this pallid little alpinist owned by the sea was curious what a swarthy, ugly minor goliath was doing roaming around outside of a proverbial Valley of Elah.

“Kannski,” he murmurs in his tongue. “I will go now, away. The mountains,” he said. He was satisfied that this wasn’t a trap, though he remained guarded. The information was pertinent to know, Rusalka easy enough to remember as a name that sounded as archaic as his own words and heritage. It was the first pack he had learned the name of, but it would not be the last of their kind he encountered.

Stjornuati would enjoy this information, too.