Duskfire Glacier absolute and pure

blackfell, too, roamed the glacierside. a cataclysmic mood yawning free of him, so putrid it invaded his very scent; his eyes, his very being, stung with rage. the rage sun eater had infected him with. blackfell did not know how long he would stew in his anger; perhaps only a week, or perhaps longer.
he knew he'd know no peace while the man still lived. he could not lay down and live with the fact; the fact. he shakes his head, a measly attempt at freeing himself of such cloying thoughts. they did not leave. now, he was soiled with worse thoughts. gjalla and ishmira still had not turned up; nor black hawk.
he stopped at a pool of ice melt to lap generously and quench his thirst before he continued down the path he carved through the mountainside, scaling with the precision of a nativeborn.
it was what he needed. but relaxation came at a price; blackfell turned the last corner and found himself staring into the backside of white. but not the white of the glacier, which had steadily begun to melt into earthen tones, but another male. blackfell's crimson stare narrowed upon him.