Dawnlark Plains the twisted mouth

When @Saena left, Pura followed.

She had a head start, but the twisted titan was an accomplished tracker of wolves. His sister's scent blazed like a trail of fire winding north-east from the plateau. When she stopped to rest, Pura was hot on her heels, inhaling the intoxicating scents she left behind - piss, excrement, traces of pale fur. He slept where she slept, rolled in any spot she deigned to spend longer than ten minutes in.

When she eventually settled on the Rise, he watched her.

In the time it had taken the siblings to reach Saena's eventual claim, they had turned a year old. There was nothing left of Pura's uncertainty about the quality of his spirit; he knew what he was and what he wanted, and felt no remorse.

It was a freeing realization. On more than one occasion, a wandering wolf crossed his path, and on a subset of those, Pura successfully lied his way to a successful kill. Once he accepted that socializing was a tool, it was easier to fake it.

One such success occurred where the plains met the Silver Moraine. Pura had eaten more than his fill, and was in the process of covering the unfortunate old codger's remains. Summer inspired wanderlust in so many hopefuls, old and young - for Pura, their migration meant a feast.