Swiftcurrent Creek I've been awake in every state line.

Viinturuth desired his time, and while Akavir briefly wondered if something was on the ivory Mayfair’s mind, it didn’t mean he wasn’t looking forward to some time with his littermate.

In truth, Akavir hadn’t expected the man to still be here—Viinturuth’s desire to wander was something he had never been able to truly sate in the past… but, he could only hope, they would have the winter ahead of them.

The scar along his eye healed now—the inner turmoil of his interlude in the lowlands festered, but was pressed to one side. An occasion for a rainy day—something he could perhaps bury with duty and his thoughts pressed further to their crumbling relationship with Kvarsheim, and what was to be expected upon either side of the equation.

Viinturuth had hunted with him for the lone wolves—so as the sun pressed it’s final kiss upon the lands, the darker brother sidled closer, his expression as dark as the oncoming night when a wry and feral grin pulled to the corner of his lips. “Found the one who attacked Mae and Wren,” he offered, an ear flicking idly as he tipped his muzzle in quiet greeting to the Zeta.