Otatso Wetlands This race is a prophecy.

oh my god manauIA what horrible timing lmfao <3

He was a nowhere man - like the days before the glacier, before even Swiftcurrent. When he thought only of his own survival and not that of his bloodline. The fire in his heart had burned strong for a long while now, but it had dwindled; he was filled with blackness now. A flickering ember remained, hardly keeping the cold of winter away. It didn't matter now. Let the fire go out - let them be separated, if it meant he would survive. Njal stomped through the snow with such a defiant manner, it was as if he wished to be spotted. Like he was tempting fate and allowing Tuwawi to come chasing after him. He had chosen the time of his departure carefully enough, though. She was likely with Maera, making up for lost time.

But as he ran and the snow crunched underfoot, he thought he heard a voice. He thought he recognized the sound, and suddenly slumped to a halt, rearing his head back and turning so abruptly it was a surprise Njal kept his footing. He saw a flash of red - oncoming fire, Tuwawi? - and he waited for the burn in his heart to flare up, for his heart to leap to his throat. Instead, all that lifted were his hackles. He breathed a sharp breath in and held it, looking in the direction of the oncoming wolf. The beast did not think Tuwawi would stoop so low as to beg him to return; she was as proud as he, proud and strong.

This wasn't her. It was clear when the woman got closer - this wasn't his wife, but before he could relax, she spouted ignorant words filled with hostility. 'Foolish girl' Njal thought, and steadily exhaled a cloud of his own in to the air. For a moment he considered simply turning and leaving her without a response. But there was something about the woman's demeanor that unsettled him - she was poking and prodding him with her accusations, and it was too much after everything else.

My kind..? Njal shifted as he spoke, stepping towards her so that they could lock eyes; he was indeed defiant of her, assuming the posture of an angry Alpha even if he no longer held the rank. You know nothing about me, woman. Nothing about my family or the place you call home. He caught the scent of Malachi hanging heavily upon her, but it was fresh. A tell-tale sign of how foreign she still was.

He turned again, this time intent on leaving her behind. From over his shoulder, Njal's rumbling voice crackled with withheld rage, Run on back to Malachi.