Duskfire Glacier a matter of honor

for @Faust

tense shoulders wear a cloak of raven feathers, each one embedded into the thick ruff of his fur. the raven still needles, beak threading through, decorating his scruff. blackfell is of the darkness, now. it is late. the moon rose hours ago, now she reached her peak.
midnight.
ruby eyes split the onyx coating of the world now, as he walks. over a tall ridge of ice and stone, large paws careful to not slip; experienced with long traverse of these tundras. when he comes to the tallest rise, he stops and turns his snout to the sky.
a howl. it is long, held and a demand for audience.