Stone Circle Brill

The hare clutched in his teeth had almost been severed by the time he had reached their borders. The young wolf had clenched down too hard on its body. The jostling of hunting the animal and then trekking across the wild land to reach Kvarsheim had wiped him of strength and spirit. It was only his remaining resolve that carried him the rest of the way.

At the edge of their land, Swordfish hung his head and dropped the mangled hare at his paws. It was measly and pathetic, he thought. It would be no different than the image of the redtailed boy, though. As the spring winds tousled his stormcloud coat, he squinted against it.

A low call was made to @Bjarna. Swordfish slumped into a seated position so that he might wait.