Neverwinter Forest there's no crowds in the street,

for @Iruna

tw for thoughts of suicide

it was through the neverwinter that the man walked. his position as sögumaðr, however holy, however important to the pack did not permit his entrance to the women-only spaces, and so he would walk towards the markers in which determined their starting points and tilted his head back in a howl of summons, calling for the seer of which he had yet to meet. iruna, her name was, working with the guidance of seiðkona.

with heavy limbs and a weariness upon his expression he would continue to move, whether away or towards the woman was unbeknownst to him, rökkur simply could not allow himself to be still within the snow that carpeted the ground for too long, should the images of the scarlet and the mounds that heaved with their final breaths linger within his mind ; push him over an edge he was uncertain he would survive. a drop, a fall.

dark paws carried him. would they brace for impact, or would they allow his perishing?

simply put, he wished not to dwell.