Phoenix Maplewood I tripped off long ago

Traces of a familiar scent drew him from the snowscape in fervent pursuit, convinced it was only hope which tempted him. Surely his sister was not here—they had been separated months ago—and yet her scent trailed further south. He almost chose denial.

With nowhere to claim as home, he had nothing to go back to; no herds claimed to his blood, nothing to speak of for wealth in their world's tongue, no wife, no family save for this wayward sister. The chance to reunite was paramount.

As Yataghan entered the woods and began to wind his way through buried paths of snow, he thought he saw the familiar shape of—Pala? Sister—!

Upon rounding upon this figure he came around to see their face, and was struck by the ugly bare skin of her wound. The shock of her appearance made any sound catch in his throat.