Nimbus Summit but my anxious heart

a wisp of a figure approaches the borders, dragging with them a pungent, metallic scent of blood of open wounds and with a notable limp. arius' steps pause, glacial gaze as cold and hard as the ice it was siphoned from; studying.
näytät paskalta. arius deduces, rather unceremoniously; but he masks this behind the tongue of the tundrians.

he recognizes that stranger needed help before it was even announced: and though a small part of him feels a pang of guilt at being an asshole right off the bat — he is quick to bury it; using his anger at the world as his armor and projecting it as his persona.

his next words get stuck in his throat as his gaze travels over the stranger; cruel words lodging like a rock as he is struck with a familiarity of the stranger's eyes. wintersbane's eyes. his eyes.

that the late king of the glacier has other children is not unknown to arius. before arius can wrap his mind 'round this fact, the idea that maybe this stranger is another sibling, he is derailed by the approach of another. older than him and the stranger, he thinks, coated in a coat of reddish sand and cream and asks all the obvious questions — not that arius could judge.

obviously. arius huffs, ungraciously; immediately exhausted.

clearly, his social skills needed some serious polishing. his earlier woe is me temporarily put on hold as he tips his head back and calls for @Lane: the only medic he knew of these days.