Deepwood Weald Let these bones be the giver

They waited.

Grim silence hushed the sweeping branches, but soon enough the wind parted and a familiar figurine of ebony and white strode through the undergrowth, emerging with a gentle nudge to Aries' shoulder - he allowed it. Very few were permitted to seek beneath the icy exterior of the soldier (if such a thing existed), but the consort had gifted him a place among the wolves of blackfeather when he was just a whelp, a runaway, who'd abandoned his family in search of something more.

Had it been selfish, to depart without a goodbye? Perhaps.

The reaper had prepared to give a brief rundown of the situation, but was not disatisfied when the svelte stranger spoke for herself - she had some sort of a backbone, that much was evident. What secrets did she hold, beneath mysterious eyes?