Silver Moraine multieyed raven

there comes joy first and then deep, unbeholdened laughter. rising from his barrel chest and into his throat, fluttery as it leaves the cage of his teeth where it echoed. faust runs to him, bounding like a young boy and tvar meets him halfway. snow churning in the wake of the grown men, two titans crashing in what is the colliding of universes.

bodies chiseled by the same stonemason, hide burning the same color as one another—different phases of the night, still aglow with the north star. tvar's laughter is warm, hot, mighty; he butts his head into faust's next when the man shoulders him, foreheads rubbing together aggressively, their breaths mingling in visible plumes.

it has been so long. too long. there is many thoughts, but one most prevalent: his brother is here. gods, the time they must catch up on! tvar reaches with a strong foreleg for the man, rubbing his paw furiously across his ears bitten by frost and time, looking upon his brother with eyes sore with lost time. look at you, you bastard! he exclaims. a man grown.

"what in all the frozen hells are you doing here?"

tvar seems to consider the question before parting his lips, exhaling a breath of trembling joy and humor. fuck if i know. is all he can say, gesturing with a wide paw to what all lay around them—as if something is unseen. then he pulls the man into half a bear hug, a foreleg hiked about the man's gold ruff. i've got a wife, aye. and pups coming in just a handful of days. but you! a wide grin. why are you here, brother?