Duskfire Glacier all the stars are closer

faust meets him with drawn teeth and raised hackles. with a snarl that vibrates off the ice they stand upon, two silhouettes of ebony, drawn in the memory of their mother. yet otherworldly in their differences. he is blanketed in gold. fenris is blanketed in silver. the etchings of different fathers.

and it brings faust's brother great amusement that he is not recognized. but why would he be? he had since grown. he had been a yearling when his brother left home. lanky-legged, wide-eyed, his scent boyish. but he knew faust, and he laughs now.

but it is not a rude laugh, not a condescending laugh. it's the laugh of a man who has long since awaited to reunite with his kin. he tilts his head down, a sweeping bow of his crown before this self-proclaimed king, and voices:

mother would be proud, brother.