Dragoncrest Cliffs The Rules of Fight Club

Njord’s spirits lifted when he heard Merlin’s call. The past few days had been nothing but melancholy for the islander. Sapphique seemed to be under a constant grey cloud and struggled to recover from the recent loss of their Rosada, plus the missing Regin. Thankfully the addition of Haunt (and soon, her brother) would breath new, and much needed, life into the pack. Grief was much more tolerable when you could share burdens and sorrows between many.

Njord found himself retreating into his own mind more and more. Once a lackadaisical wolf, Njord now felt edgy and anxious. The great snow storms worried him. He feared for the health and safety of the pack… especially the young ones: Chacal, Arcelia, and Valravn. This was their first winter, and it was a season unlike any seen before. Thankfully, he was almost completely healed from the wounds inflicted by Shardik and could move freely without pain.

He followed the call close to the borders until he saw Merlin’s vibrant copper pelage among the snowy hills and conifers. “Ahoy, Merlin!” he called out, feeling a rush of seratonin to his brain.