Swiftcurrent Creek You say that you're leaving, well that comes as no surprise

Arric’s summoning howl drew him forward—already he tended the borders now, but had yet to come upon the faintly familiar scent that moved over him in an uncomfortable wave of nostalgia. Instantly, he was taken back with the memory of the rushing waters—of losing breath finally, after struggling for so long… of the world going black, and a forceful clasp bringing him back to life.

She had been metal and iron—forged of such, and just as cold.

And now, as he came upon them, he felt a bemused quirk of his lips at the woman’s still rigid form, despite being in a position of respect upon their borders.

“Arric,” he offered in greeting, coming to stand beside the larger man, his own eyes warm as he considered the silver she-wolf. “I didn’t expect to see you ever again,” he finally noted, his tone not cold—but nor did he know of what to make of her presence.

Especially when her sister was not with her, and expectantly, his eyes lifted from her, sweeping across the otherwise quiet lands, as if she would pop out any moment to surprise him.