Blackfeather Woods a turtle has made it to the water

Unlike his fellow ghost, it was not the winds that lured him to the borders but mere chance; he often wandered and patrolled the outskirts of the woods, searching but finding nothing, and often knowing not what it even was that his subconscious searched for. But it was during one of these wanderings that he found the collection of wolves, a mother and her daughter, who stood across from forms he’d never expected to see again: Cicero’s children, the brothers of his once apprentice.

They had grown but changed little in appearance, overall, with the blackened half of the duo still missing his neck and the patchwork boy bearing an almost eerie resemblance to his sire. He looked them both over from where he stood, then between and beyond—but the palest of the unfortunate Melonii brood was nowhere to be found, his previously favoured child still missing. With a slow shake of his head, he rid his expression of whatever disappointment tried to linger and focused on the encounter at hand. And with several steps stolen in their direction, he let the sound of his footfalls announce his arrival, whilst his voice was used to say, “Welcome home.”

Their intentions were unknown to him and the northerner did not attempt to change that; what they wanted would be revealed, he was sure, so why ruin a reunion that appeared important to Relmyna? Keeping several paces away, he was otherwise silent so that Rel’s apparent joy might not be disturbed.