Dragoncrest Cliffs Alaska

Njord trekked through Rusalka towards the river as his head hung deep in thought. It was unlike the man to hold such posture, but he couldn’t help wear his mind on his sleeve. Ice formed at the river’s edge where the water was slowest, dead leaves from fall caught among the ruffage. Njord stepped carefully over the bank stone by stone until he reached a quiet area without much activity. He looked down at the water and regarded his sullen face in the  ripples. He was consumed by thoughts of the woman; to have her and to hold her… but also, just maybe, someone to love. All these feelings were new, and difficult to sort out. A fish swam by… looking at the sad predator with a big, oogling eye wondering WTF he was on about. Wolf things.

Suddenly, a call from the borders rang out and broke Njord’s trance. He recognized the voice and darted from the river edge’s with a quick hop and a skip. Not only was this his first encounter on the border as a patrolee, but it was also the first wolf he knew! He arrived, a little short of breath, to stand before the young man.

“Ahoy! Merlin!” Njord said excitedly, “what’r you doing here, bucko?” His red tail wagged, moving in to take scent from the nomad. “I see Valmúa didn’t track you down an’ gobble you up. She was lookin’ at you like shark bait.” He laughed, genuinely happy to see a familiar face.