Stone Circle Lovely

Bjorn had made his patrols once more, just as he had everyday. He started from the eastern border, and made his way to the western border. Today, he shook his route up a bit, added a change, because sometimes, change was good. 

His route had taken him by the resting place Fadir Gunnar. He would’ve simply passed by quietly, his focus on his rounds, if there wasn’t a woman over his grave, placing wildflowers on top of the dirt. She did not seem like a stranger, nor had he heard of trespassers, so he gently chuffed, approaching her with a gentle woof, a swish of his pale.

“Fadir Gunnar was the heart of this pack.” He said quietly, “But while he may be away, off hunting in that golden field in the sky, he still lives on in our hearts, our souls.”