Qeya River my head says i never should've left

calling for @Gjalla -- pings for visibility @Sun Eater @Ice Diver

blackfell had wandered some. several days, in fact. then he got fed up with the loneliness and turned around. marching his ass back the way he had come, back towards where he'd parted ways with gjalla.

then he tracked her scent beneath what snow had fallen since, which took several hours because he had never been the best tracker. now, he stands on the outskirts of some river. his crimson eyes burned as they traced the winding path of it, following it to where he imagined she might be. gjalla. even now, the name left a bitter taste on his tongue, a strange mix of frustration and idiotic desire.

debating whether or not he'd call for her. but then he does. bites the bullet. runs the gauntlet. blackfell tilted his head back and let out a howl—it wasn’t a plea, wasn’t anything soft or gentle. it was a declaration, demanding her presence like the stubborn fool he knew he was. and he frankly didn't care if he attracted whatever nomads she ran with while he was at it. fuck it, maybe he'd stay.

he didn't have anything better to do.