Stone Circle What can break me has a name

Moss, having caught the hoarse call of the one whose fur danced in the wind like licks of fire, made their way to his side. As they approached, their gaze drifted over the figures gathered: Bjorn, themself, and Skald, along with the remaining children—at least the ones routinely found around camp.

Skald, are you alright? Have the others returned? The man asked with a hopeful lift of the nose, seeking Tauris's scent in case she lurked out of view.

Finding no trace, he shifted uneasily on his paws. If the other adults hadn't returned, then there were only a handful of reasons for this gathering, and none of them boded well.

Your health hasn't taken another turn for the worse, I hope,  Anda?