Blackbeak Bluff i’ll keep you safe in this house of mine

The sky was soft and grey when the healer stopped atop the broken points of the cliff’s obsidian crown. 

She had turned north at the foothills of the Sunspire. Even if she could’ve traversed the rocky terrain with her joints, the waif had no desire to wander ghost yards of times past. 

And she had grown fondly familiar of the sea. 

A chill clung to the salted air, numbing her nose until it felt like a bit of ice carved onto the end of her muzzle. Even so, Síff lingered as close to the edge as she dared — ochre gaze flitting from the seals who lazed on the beaches far below, to the crying gulls who wheeled in protest of her presence, to the waves breaking against the rocks — enjoying the spray of mist against her pale features.

Njord traveled further South then he should have. He had children at home, a pack to attend to… but the cold October air bit at his heels and the chilling image of Haunt’s dying face would not leave him. The sound of crashing waves was a constant companion as the man moved through Ankyra Sound to the beaches and bluffs.

There, in the distance, another white figure. It was as if Haunt possessed the living. Njord picked up his gait, following the specter. Wondering, if by meeting this wolf, he would be speaking with his friend beyond the ether.

The wind pulled at his ruff and red tail. “Ahoy! Who goes there?” he called above the noise, ears cupped forward to better hear the stranger.

Wrapping up as Siff went inactive

Njord blinked once and she was gone. Like a specter, the white wolf disappeared from her overlook, as if blown away by the sea wind. The man did a double take and hurried to the last spot where the maiden stood – but there was no trace. He felt an Icey chill grip his heart… had that been Haunt’s ghost?