Firestone Hot Springs this will never end

Solpallur was ever quiet, something that did not bother the man of contrasted coat color; it was one of the ways they had always been different, Stjornuati having some capacity to be spjallandi in the right company. There were times he preferred the opposite as well, though such moments could be as rare as Blár Máni — the nights when the moon hung blue in the star-dotted sky.

Ja, brother. Solpallur's silence would not be forcibly broken by him, instead focusing on the woman's inquiry. What draws us to these Wilds, As if that would clear things up. This one and Solpallur search long for hringja, for end to old life and beginning of new. For now, the two lived in limbo, pack life many moons behind them. What is Arlette's hringja?

Arlette felt really stupid because she still couldn't really understand what this hringja meant. Did they mean pack? Or a home? A location they wanted to live? She looked from one to the other. The dark one didn't seem very keen that she was here. Her ears fell back, uncertain. She felt less welcome with him here. She glanced at Stjor when he asked that question and blinked.

"My pack? I'm-- I am not with them," she commented. "I left," she commented. "To find a friend." The female explained. She was still looking for Oryx, that had been her reason for leaving but her uncles words did echo. Still, she would not allow her best friend to leave her like that. She looked at the dark male again, and she scooted a bit closer to Stjor since she liked him much better.

He watched her intently, aware of the discomfort that rippled across her in the same way he would sense the fear of his prey moments before the chase. It was perhaps one of the better skills he had, to simply intimidate by existence alone, and very rarely did not bolster his pride and prowess.

Knowing that she was no threat to his meager kill, he dropped it from his jaws. His tongue snaked out to lick at the blood that cling yet to his maw; the notion of hunger stilled and yet stirred momentarily. Fleeting, much like the gravity-bound prey had been.

“Why,” he asked of her, though it hardly sounded like a question. Why go to find the friend who left? Instinct alone suggested perhaps that friend went missing, but then why go alone? He did not like the way that the story added up, and the piercing glow of his gaze did more than only suggest his distrust. Would this blind his brother? He did not think Stjornuati to be swayed by pretty vixens and their wayward scars and tales.

Let's wrap this up? We can have a new one soon if you like!

To find a friend? Stjornuati had never heard of leaving one's home to find a friend; family, yes, even ex-lovers or pack members, but friends? Though he wanted an answer to Solpallur's question, the growl of his stomach interrupted him, causing him to steal a glance at the meal his brother had brought. He knew better than any that the male of dark complexion would not share with the fair-furred Arlette.

Perhaps the answer was better left for another day, and with a bid goodbye, the brother's would be off again, one last look cast over his shoulder to the female they left behind.

Fade!