Moonspear we just sell different parts of ourselves

settling into moonspear is easy; though having once lived among them prior gave wintersbane a distinct advantage. he sought his old den — though it was really a cavern cut into the bottom of the spear. it took some work to dig and clear away detritus and uproot overgrown vines and grasses that tangled together to form a natural blockade but wintersbane persisted and sniffed at the musky air, confirming that it was, indeed, truly abandoned before he shrugged inside, ducking his head lest he smack it on the rock wall overhead; admittedly, he was a fair bit taller than he'd been when he'd first claimed this as home having not even been a yearling yet.

it was long ago and in the overcast morning; made bitter by the cold that nips at his nose, wintersbane exits his new ( old ) den and seeks to make himself useful.