Silver Moraine Dark clouds, dark skies, bad weather

The raven circled once more, then drifted onwards when it spotted the approach of two ruddy figures; it knew better than to compete against the wolves, especially given how symbiotic their relationship typically was. The bird became an eyelash, a figment, and was gone.

Glaukos was alive and breathing, and so tired. His eyes opened halfway when he heard a voice; they did not focus so well as Avicus approached, but he was cognizant, if a bit hazy.

He barely moved except to breathe. Everything felt hot. It felt as if he were nowhere, as if his body wasn't his body any longer. When he smelled other wolves - sensed their proximity - some deeper, bestial instinct told him, get up!

They could be threats.

He was in no state to combat them, now.