Qeya River i can kill with my own hands

it is the sound of wings; heavy upon the air that draws wintersbane's attention from it's singleminded focus upon the borders. a glimpses skyward brings to his attention the glimpse of an owl — not an uncommon sight and thus not the one that the tundrian associates with the glacier's newest member. at least, not until the unlikely pair came into view. for a long moment wintersbane is quiet, steps slowing in preparation to greet kaster; glacial gaze sweeping over him and the owl perched upon his shoulder.

kaster, the tundrian greets, rasping out the other's name; motioning with a small gesture of his muzzle to join him. an invitation that need not be accepted but would nevertheless be appreciated. how are you settling in?