Duskfire Glacier Royals

Pulling away, his thirst quenched, several tiny beads of water clung to his black lips. Out to the distance ahead of him, beyond the reaches of the glacier, he gazed. Pondering what fate held for him in this foreign new wilderness. Then, a familiar voice from behind. Paired with a scent he knew, laced with the lingering taint of smoke. Ah, so it seemed the High Elk was gazing down favorably upon him this day.

Turning, he faced Brewster with his wry, cocky grin. Tipping his head just so, as if to further emphasize his natural good looks. "Pha, of course! A few singe marks are just my temporary accessory!" He laughed, tail waving proudly. Oh Chad, you have such a way of owning your flaws. Of spinning them, somehow, into your favor. His sun-burnt eyes gleamed, roving over his elder appraisingly. Aside from favoring a paw, Brew seemed to have escaped the inferno in one piece. "Praise the High Elk. He has brought us together again." Chad approached with his usual swagger, but with a friendly bounce in his step, reserved for kin. "Your paw. It's injured. Has it yet been treated?" His features crinkled into an expression of something more serious. Almost stern. Not invested in the medical specialty, Chad could be of little service. The most he could do was express his concern and perhaps advise Brewster to stick around this blessing of a glacier to further promote the healing process. Traveling on tender paws was a drag.