Wapun Meadow it's sword and gun day

His words were met with a come hither grin from his Gamma—all the better. The loss of Silvertongue was like a knife through him—and for now, he would adjust in the only way he truly knew how to—pain and exhaustion.

Unbeknownst to him was the watcher in the far distance—not that it would have mattered. Instead, the brothers met in a clash. As Viinturuth’s heavy limbs made to wrap about him, Akavir dove lower, a shoulder rolling up to shove the ivory man back, his jaws seeking to follow and find purchase to the thick fur of his shoulder—quick yet contained from marring.

Viinturuth might press him for details soon enough—but that was one of the things he appreciated most about his brother... His knowledge of when to pry and when to simply let heartache be.

Viinturuth, above all others, had seen him at his very best and his very worst.

For now, his brother knew this was what he needed. A distraction. The adrenaline. The need to forget a pair of pale blue eyes in favor of crimson blood and aching muscles.