Duskfire Glacier Trouble in the Stepstones

faust regarded the woman coolly, eyes narrowing only slightly at her sharp tongue. not any man’s—he didn’t press. didn’t need to. her presence said enough. she’d come of her own will, and that meant more than whatever claim draugr had half-joked into the snow.
his ear flicked, tension lingering for a breath, then passed. he said nothing further on her. instead, he gave a quiet grunt as draugr's paw landed heavy on his shoulder. he didn’t move under it, though the faintest twitch of a lip might’ve been mistaken for a smirk.
when the question of his wife arose, his gaze cut sharply to the glacier’s edge. his steps stilled. he had no wife. he had a mate.
then—low and commanding—he tipped back his head and loosed a howl across the wind.
calling her.
calling @Tikigak.
his mate.
the sound was not gentle. it held weight. it held purpose. it told the land who ruled here—and who would soon stand at his side.