Two Rivers Isle the art of survival

no need to match length <3

in the spring, germanicus would be put to another sort of test.

it was not a concept he enjoyed pondering in any regard. he roamed out directly, heading north and then northwest. it was a poor decision to make when the pack held such turmoil, but he felt his abilities were compromised at best. alerting @Célnes with a mutter, not a howl or a bark — the centurion knew better than to announce his personal comings and goings to the family that rippled around the king — he had gone off with the thought he would hunt.

by the time the guard arrived, it was to behold an odd little island surrounded by rivers. his nape prickled at once, for germanicus had been raised with stories of the wildmen who lived in forests such as these. putting rout to armies and tearing heads from bodies. he was a boy no longer, but a healthy respect for care in such areas remained. 

honed senses razor-edge in the cold wind, germanicus too found the scent of deer. it was what he had come to do; despite the man's wariness, he forded the river at its thinnest point, emerged to shake off his pelt, and pressed into the near untouched territory.

the sheen of another's presence shimmered across the tripwires of his caution. germanicus drew to a halt, shifting into the shadow of a tangled, low-hanging trio of branches. flowergold eyes searched for the figure, and his broad shoulders followed a questing point of his muzzle as the soldier became visible again. a moonchased obsidian figure, moving with surety on the trail he himself followed.

germanicus was watchful, and said nothing, expecting the other to register him quickly.