The Sentinels if you are the dealer, i'm out of the game

@Smokestep ♥! sorry about this word vomit, lol.

arturo lingers at the borders of the burnt sentinels and stavanger bay: the bay's black rocks tainted with the scent of wolves coming and going. it comes as some surprise that a pack is founding here if only because he has come to think of the bay as skellige's territory though his ...friend ( was that what they were? it was hard for arturo to accurately name their strange relationship with one another given the circumstances of how it had came about in the first place ) had long since left the territory. before the shitshow had went down in ravensblood forest at any rate. the melanistic coywolf isn't overly sure why he's came to the sentinels if all he can bring him to do was linger on their outskirts. he remembers finding lotte here, injured and sick from smoke inhalation and there is a sharp pain in his heart. he is not sure if her memory is a festering wound or if it continues to leave him with new wounds small but infinitely more painful then one, large wound. he knows he must let her go so that her memory no longer causes him to bleed — because he must not ever forget her; women like her were not so easily left to dust and ash — but the pain still lingers and it still smarts.

he ventures forth with the thought that revisiting places where memories with her are the strongest are like stepping stones taking him to the alter where he must relinquish his hold upon her. it makes his trip to the strath, to her grave longer and thus is a prolonging of his suffering ( and he feels he rightfully deserves it given the whole witchdoctor debacle the second time around ). he lingers in the edge of the burnt, snow dusted forest — snow that if not for the cool feel of it against his paws would remind him of ash — careful to avoid getting too close to the borders of what he assumes is a newly founding pack.

he does not intend to stay long, there is likely no prey or shelter to be found in the sentinels anymore and he must keep venturing down the southern coast but for the moment he allows himself the respite and the venture down a road of memories that are both good and bad.