Stone Circle blood from a stone

rusalka takes up his post on the borders; walking the claim from the shadows of the trees. a light snow had begun to fall; hardly enough to be more than a barest dusting upon the earth. winter was quickly approaching, and with the new wolves joining kvarsheim and the hardest months of the year would test the young leadership.

the commander draws in a breath, the staunch chill of the snowmist lingers unpleasantly in his nose.

time would tell, he tells himself.

he pauses, emerging from the shadows of the pines he lingers in to strengthen a small stretch of border; casting a hawkish eye to neutral territories beyond.