Cerulean Cape if i had a voice

Ég hef saknað þín.

They were words he didn't quite know how to say, not for lack of wanting but for lack of closeness. Where his littermate was fire, he was ice. Where she spoke her mind, he ruminated and shielded his thoughts. Compared to @Valmúa, Stjornuati was cold and aloof; this had always been his way, quiet even as a child. So stark in their differences, so few in their similarities, he had never known how to show his appreciation of the female; appreciation that had grown ten-fold now with her appearance here in the wilds.

The wolf of cream and gold and all the colors in between still found showing that appreciation difficult, speaking it even more so. All the words he thought of, in all of the tongues he knew, sounded inept and insubstantial. Had it been in his character, he would have expressed this all to her, that he did not know how to express his joy at having her with him again or how grateful he was for her presence, but then he would not have had the issue in the first place.

With a rough sigh, Stjornuati continued along the peninsula that stretched out into the water, searching for... something.