Dawnlark Plains isbjørn

he shook his head, smiling and feeling a little bad. "you don't have to be sorry," aditya said warmly. "we picked a great place. and the weather's getting warmer, anyway." his golden orbs strayed toward the maplewood, lingering there for a moment, before he spoke again. "and we have the maplewood."

shaking his head once more, he looked back to grayday. "we don't have to move again on my account," he insisted. "we can stay here. i keep warm by keeping busy, anyway." busy he had kept, trotting along the borders each day, eyes and ears pricked for movement, friend and foe alike. it was a territory that required considerably more border work than the plateau, and he relished in it.

"does it suit you, here?" he asked, voice slightly anxious. he had hoped the lack of trees would be a comfort to grayday and his failing sight.