Witch's Marsh prorsus

Quiet. Abundant. Peaceful. Rich in children and mothers. Although still shy about eye contact in this moment, Ico's eyes lingered on Germanicus' stony visage, fascinated. Whitebark sounded like... well, it sounded a little like what Ico had fantasised about when he'd imagined a home, a place to stay put.

But no, Ursus was his home, the only pack that had taken him in after two hard rejections. But despite this, perhaps Germanicus would notice some tone of loneliness in his androgynous voice as he explained; Ursus is a strong pack, young but ambitious. It has a spiritual foundation, but it's wild, tumultuous... much work for a guard, he concluded gently, more as a neat callback than to recommend the pack to the young hunter.

Ico glanced ahead again, intending to find comfort in the mid-distance, but instead his ear tilted as he spotted something near a clump of trees. It looked like it could be a grazing doe.