Duskfire Glacier no rest for the wicked

the corpse of the rogue lay to rot within the snow; he would not move it. let it be further warning that trespassing without cause would not be tolerated. not while he was on his routes. they were mapped well; a day long journey along the borders. to cull the weak that may threaten to dismantle what they were trying to build. 

there's movement to his flank. he turns with a huff, raising his head to stare at a man. unfamiliar, but he carried the scent of faust. even carried a hint of resemblance. faust hadn't spoken of any kin—but it did not matter. 

he would test this brother. see if he's as strong as their baskaan. he's strong, too, and his lips curl into a fleeting, grim smile. a worthy opponent. finally. 

"you," he rasped. tongue curls over his maw to clean blood, though he's hoping more would be spilled soon. whether it was his own or this man's. "look like faust. but are you strong like him?" 

not a direct threat, but certainly an invitation.