Phoenix Maplewood Øye

Maybe @Eurmal if you would like to have some sibling fun. <3 >w<

The mountains had shifted and gave way to a lush maple woodland. Jörmungandr had taken his time traversing from one place to the next. His legs were not weary, his body was strong, and his mind was clear. The forest would give him an opportunity for hunting.

As he had passed along the rocky base of the mountain some miles back, Jörmungandr had scented the markings of pack wolves. They did not carry any of the scents of his people, or the pale-coats. He had strayed far enough from their borders that he had avoided contact with the mysterious group. Curiosity buzzed quietly in his mind. If Svart had led them there, did he not wish for them to create new followers? The wolves in the unknown land were not of Svart or Kvit – they were unclaimed by belief.

Pausing at the edge of the maple trees, Jörmungandr drew his snout up to the air and sniffed. His single bloody eye roamed the lands that stretched around the wood. There was a stretching mountain range. Beyond it, he did not know.

she had learned long ago her brother's blind spot, and now kept within it as trough trees on sticklegs she weaved her way nearer.

she knew she couldn't ambush the jötunn, and so instead opted to, once only a wall of shrub and low branch was all that separated them, burst out screaming like a haugbui awoken to find one mortal threading upon its grave.

Hackles bristled.

The banshee screams from the brush forced Jörmungandr to spin, lowering his head into a defensive position that would spare his throat from attack. His eye swung to latch onto the rangy figure who had approached so boldly. Even in an unknown world, the dark wolf believed he was at risk. There were wolves with sharp fangs all around.

But it was only his sister.

Jörmungandr deflated. His wine-red eye fell flat with disinterest. The dark wolf drew his snout higher so that he might peer down the length of it at her.

Hel… his rumbling voice sounded, dead-pan and aloof.