The Heartwood Will you tear my skin?

Dreven follows close behind as they move through darkened lands with only touchy spots of life. Alduin moves forward, ensuring with a sideways glance that his Harbinger is following.

He says he will toil and endure. That is what Alduin expected of him. He would have it no other way. He hopes he will make a fine leader of Alduin we’re to die suddenly — which wouldn’t be surprise. There are many things that threaten his life, but perhaps his sanity will be his greatest downfall.

They have yet to see.

So Alduin hums pleasantly to that reply, “Good.” A reply short and sweet, but perhaps more meaningful than many think. Especially when it comes to the hellhound.

They continue, on the way Alduin points out, in few words, the surprising display of life in the near distance — a weeping willow tree. Likely in the swamp neither wolf knows about yet. When that becomes old news, they make it to a small lake that leads to a cave from a shallow, watery pathway.

A touch of masochistic excitement jolts through him as he stops at the waters edge, unsure if the water is deep or not, and peers back to his company. 

“Shall we?” He hums in question, hoping this man knows how to swim at all.