Raven's Watch calm before the torrent comes

Tonight, he watched the sky.

Uncertainty had cloaked him for a spell, though well guarded and hidden beneath his features. They had begun to amass a following much greater and powerful than ever before and the growing pains of such were not entirely lost on him. Solpallur was uncomfortable with the undertaking—all these new faces, all these wolves rallying to a cause that he did not believe they understood. Whether or not they answered their own hringja or were interested in their own self-preservation he did not know, and had not yet sussed out. He would, in time, but for now and some time both he had withdrawn to the higher climes of the mountain.

From there, he had rested and healed from his trials and tribulations, to curb and quell his own acrimony and all that it dared to taint. His hock had mended where the wolf from the nearby pack had seized it and tore the flesh, leaving nothing more than a bare, toothy row of skin where hair would fill back in; he thought of the pain it had caused less and less and with it, the anger had faded too. A misguided effort, a miscalculation on his part—he disliked that he could have risked potentially worse injury, that he had underestimated the survival instinct of another.

It mattered not, however, as his gaze drifted across the night sky and it’s constellations.

He knew this pattern well, being among the first he had been taught. Winter was nearly upon them. The mountainside had become slick with snow and ice just as unforgiving as the duo that commanded the terrain. The ravens had gone to roost more often, though their trinkets were scattered about on the plateau-esque ridge he was seated upon. He had begun to gather the bones they brought him here, arranging them into a crude pile on which they had come to add to. Small bones, nothing more, nothing substantial to hem them in and deign it a cairn yet.

@Stjornuati would be coming to him soon, he knew that—the ravens had brought him tufts of his brother’s pallid coat. His travels were halted now, though snow had yet to truly blanket the lowlands, and Solpallur inferred that information would be forthcoming. He needn’t summon him there either, for his brother would always find him, would know him better than any other. So he waited, scrying what he could from the astral as darkness and silence both enveloped him whole.