Noctisardor Bypass baelor

uktark stills when the raven settles, weight accepted without flinch. his ear turns, jaw setting as the croak sinks in for what it is.
a summons.
he exhales once through his nose, fog curling thick in the cold air. there is a glance back toward the mountainside den, toward warmth and sleep and what he guards now, before he turns away.
the sangilak angles downhill, dark shape slipping into the valley’s spine, following the bird where it leads.
blackfell has called.
uktark answers.