Nova Peak Via Infinita

Much like Masque currently, he'd spent the week in similar spirits.

Overall, he seemed to simmer temperamentally; he grew quieter, wholly cool-exteriored now, fairly dependable. His voice deepened and he seemed to finally grow into his skin; tall, lean, a dark-clad version of his father. He was more reclusive, yet always hung nearby, like an early morning's fog. 

However, the boy found there was no fog today, rather, intermittent showers. Raindrops clung to his fur as he walked along, searching for who'd called him—Masquerade.

Hey, He greets, finally finding the Ulfr. Curiously, he eyes them with a slight tilt of his head, expecting an explanation.