Stone Circle here it goes

It had only been a week without her, but those days were enough for Turneric to wonder if someone really had replaced his need to endlessly wander, or if, when he settled down again, he'd grow high strung with that relentless need to feel the free wind on his face, to run until the horizon bled out to mountain or sea, to be unbound again, untethered -- only, of course, to her. But even as he'd curled up in his aunt's camp, the warmth of her children pressed around him, he didn't only think of Inkeri, but the eyes of his own daughters smiling back at him.

What a mistake he'd made.

What kind of father was he?

The one who came back, he decided.

He knew he was welcome here, but he stopped short of running into the heart of the land. And he knew his voice would flow from these borders through Kvarsheim to touch the ears of every wolf there - and perhaps others would come running, too - but he pointed his howl to the ones he had come back for, first and above all.