Qeya River the speed of thought

After the meeting at the Rise, Njord slipped away to cross the plains towards the deep Taiga. There was an urgency in his pace. A new threat surrounded Dragoncrest that pried open his deepest insecurities. The seafarer’s ego was cast aside as he caught the scent of his target.

With his course set Njord, who only stopped to pluck a steelhead from a lake, traveled swiftly until Kigipigak’s well cut figure was found besides the Qeya gnawing on a bone.

Njord approached with a stiff gait. Though he deigned to remain neutral, every cell in his body fought to stay guarded. Was it a fool’s errand to seek out this pompous man? The seafarer tossed the trout towards the northern hunter.

“I need yer help, Kigipigak,” he said, air whistling between his clenched jaw. “I need trainin’. To fight.”