Swiftcurrent Creek A neighborly day for a beauty.

Scimitar was restless these days – Paarthurnax’s puppies grew steadily, and the scent of Shadow had faded from his borders. At least the Roman had been true to his words to take his leave after their birthing, but soon he would return, demanding for his first visit with them outside of pack borders. The cinnamon male held no control over that, nor did he feel the entitlement to – if the crimson she-wolf wanted the madman in the lives of her children, it was a decision she could make.. and he was not going to remind her how poor her past decisions had been.

Instead, he desired nothing more than to begin exploration for a new home. He did not believe such a thought to be unobtainable – moving the Creek wolves would be the best for them all, and a fresh start was what they all needed. But it was Neverwinter Forest that clung to his heart, and that in itself was the unobtainable, especially with a pack of wolves bordering the forests.

A distraction pulled him from his reverie in the form of a teasingly familiar scent. His own creamy paws thrummed the earth as he made his way to Creek lands, yet as his muzzle lifted a notch to investigate further, he could not place the smell until Njal’s familiar form came upon him. The man was stepping toward the mountains and coast, and blinking, the Frostfur was almost tempted to let him go without word. After all, the silver beast and his wife had seen no qualm in abandoning Bazi the moment she required them the most – but it was the fiery she-wolf he was more enraged at, rather than her grayscale mate.

Ushering a soft woof, Scimitar paused, his own stance stilling, ears cupped forward and his tail waving proudly. If Njal wished to speak, he could do so – if he wanted to continue, the option was also there – there was still enough distance between them.