Swiftcurrent Creek hexing circles

Another hunt—another kill. He dropped the carcass off outside the den of @Arlette and disappeared back into the seclusion of shadows and trees of the creek. He brushed his stocky frame along the moss beds—wiping some of the blood from himself—he debated a swim in the creek to clean off.

He debated simply drowning himself in the creek.

Either seemed a viable option in this moment.

The sun promised life and happiness—yet rain fell, despite its shine. Fitting.

When the call came from the border, he frowned inwardly—recognizing this voice—never expecting to hear it again. When he removed himself from the shadows, his eyes fell upon the trio—a woman, he did not know. Shardik—another face he had not expected to see again.

Finally: “Cousin,” he greeted—not with warmth, yet not with indifference. Their last conversation had been anything but pleasant—Lestan had made it known on multiple occasions he considered Akavir a monster—so why was he here?