Bramblepoint And promise me this, you'll wait for me only.

Pale eyes narrowed in attempt to better see through the whirling snow, and Winter's bite was harsh for the longer he lingered. He had not expected an instant arrival, but to hear no voice above the howling winds in response made him wonder if he'd been mistaken in detecting the scent of long-lost company.

Instinct pushed him to move, to keep blood flowing as frozen rain gathered on his pelt. Filavandrel paced for a time, uncharacteristically impatient as he tested patches of exposed earth for any sign that any of his own kind had passed by recently.

When at last the swivel of a tall silver ear found the sound of a creature on the move, the druid turned toward it. He noticed the crimson of her furs at once, and the gentle sway of his feathered tail accompanied the fond recognition in his eyes.

Each lobe pricked at the syllables that rolled from her tongue. Sundance, Teya called him as she lay sprawled before him, a name bestowed upon him at birth - who he'd once been, who she remembered him as. He did not move to correct her - no, he would let her hold this memory of him for a time.

Filavandrel was silent, allowing her to simply look upon him and answer her own question. Teya had been a she-wolf of few words before, and it seemed inappropriate to bombard her with his own. So instead he swept forward quietly and lowered his muzzle, hovering his nose above her own to initiate an opportunity to exchange scent.