Dragoncrest Cliffs ∷ x̂uux̂

The wind carried the sound of paws before the voice reached him. Kanuux lifted his head from the ridge, icy eyes narrowing, disbelieving at first. But then— there it was. That scent he knew as well as his own.
Taktu, he rumbled, voice low, almost rough with the surprise. He stepped forward, broad shoulders cutting against the dim light, scars catching in faint glimmer.
You followed. The words were not a question. His gaze searched his lodgebrother’s, hard and steady, before softening only by a margin. You did not have to.
He looked past him, northward where the ice had been, where their blood still lingered on the glacier. Then back again. Yet here you are.