Stavanger Bay Taking it’s Toll

Ironclan had, in a way, served as a new beginning. Wintersbane had given him a thorough tour of the territory—of which he was already quite familiar with. From then on, he’d dedicated his days to the monotonous repetition of marking borders and patrolling. For the most part, the man had chosen to keep to himself rather than becoming close with the others. Their scents had grown familiar to him, yet he didn’t have faces to pair with names. He was aware of his solitary habits; soon he’d attempt to break the pattern. Tahoe began the early morning like any other, patrolling, today upon the seashore; direction bound for the Sentinels.