Duck Lake I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife

He howled again, and she and Echelon followed the sound. By then, Tonravik had told the woman everything. Tartok would rise, here, as it had elsewhere. It was simply the natural order of things. This time she and her aokkatti moved in silence, which Tonravik appreciated. Shoulder-to-shoulder they traveled, Tonravik far from willing to be even inches apart from her shield-sister. Tonravik left large paw-prints in her wake, and soon, the mass of the gunmetal man who had aided her was in sight.

Tonravik was glad for his ultimate acceptance of what was to be the future. Whatever might come, they would share in whatever its cost was. Tonravik did not care much for idling. There was no true timeline, but she was not one for procrastinating when it came to the natural order of things. She was first. Tonravik could accept what they had agreed upon given the circumstances. She and Njal had an understanding. For that, she would defend him and he would defend her. The Tartok way. She slowed in her approach, and let out a low whuff in greeting. The raven woman circled him loosely, so that he could meet her aokkatti—@Echelon—properly.