Neverwinter Forest tasklane

the air was crisp, the cold biting but familiar, a companion to the weight in his chest. he searched for stærk , his golden eye scanning the tree-lined horizon, sharp and unyielding.

when he paused, his breath rolled from his muzzle in steady clouds, a faint growl rumbling in his throat. @Stærk, he called, his voice low but carrying through the stillness. come to me. we must speak.

his gaze narrowed, his patience thin but his intent resolute. the season turned, and with it came decisions that could not wait.