Duskfire Glacier And the walls keep tumbling down

The air between them was stale, the conversation notably stunted. Their once joyous reunion was simply a memory - this having been the second time Tuwawi promised to remain. Malachi appeared equally tentative to her approach and adverted his glacial eyes towards the snow... perhaps out of sympathy. For a moment the two wolves stood quiet within the silent wood until the young man offered a placid, 'hey,' in acknowledgement.

Her flat gaze traced the youth's figure. Like Maera, he had aged. No longer was Malachi the yearling she remembered, but a man grown into his prime. His rich seasonal pelt of slate, amber, and white contrasted against winter's scrim, body well filled to combat the glacier's harsher lands. Without him, Duskfire would have certainty fallen into disrepair.

Her tattered muzzle dipped in a quiet greeting as the ember took a few paces forward to close the distance between them. "Malachi..." Tuwawi lipped. She then reached out to press her nose into his mane, intent to receive his touch and rekindle her bonds once lost.