Swiftcurrent Creek I've been awake in every state line.

Viinturuth moved quietly in the night, swivelling a pallid lobe to the noises of the forest around him: a mouse scurrying underfoot, the hoot of a proud owl who watched from the branches, a distant call of his own kind. Swiftcurrent's territory was one made vibrant with life of all kinds, and he appreciated it more cone nightfall.

He'd requested a catch-up with @Akavir within the woods after sunset, not to discuss recent stresses or pry into his personal life. Viinturuth simply wished to remind him that his shoulder was always available to be leaned on, and was hopeful that they could each draw strength from one another during these trying times.

Viinturuth desired his time, and while Akavir briefly wondered if something was on the ivory Mayfair’s mind, it didn’t mean he wasn’t looking forward to some time with his littermate.

In truth, Akavir hadn’t expected the man to still be here—Viinturuth’s desire to wander was something he had never been able to truly sate in the past… but, he could only hope, they would have the winter ahead of them.

The scar along his eye healed now—the inner turmoil of his interlude in the lowlands festered, but was pressed to one side. An occasion for a rainy day—something he could perhaps bury with duty and his thoughts pressed further to their crumbling relationship with Kvarsheim, and what was to be expected upon either side of the equation.

Viinturuth had hunted with him for the lone wolves—so as the sun pressed it’s final kiss upon the lands, the darker brother sidled closer, his expression as dark as the oncoming night when a wry and feral grin pulled to the corner of his lips. “Found the one who attacked Mae and Wren,” he offered, an ear flicking idly as he tipped his muzzle in quiet greeting to the Zeta.

Viinturuth turned his muzzle in the direction of another's approach, knowing it would be Akavir. He saw the champagne glint of the dark Alpha's eyes in the waning evening light, and rumbled a low greeting as he drew closer. A fond nip was aimed at the silvered furs of his brother's neck, though it seemed there was news to share.

His ears pricked forward, attentive, and his burgundy gaze darkened somewhat as a frown tugged at the corners of his maw. Tell me more, the ranger requested, eager to know if the rogue has met his fate - or if he would need to prepare for his own involvement in that.

“Kvarsheim wolf,” he rumbled, the ire clear in his voice, if not also the flash in his eyes. His muzzle jutted upward, gaze locked to his brother— “Gunnar came to our border and demanded to know why one of our wolves attacked an ally. Apparently, the fact the man had lunged toward Mae was not an offense in his eyes that should have been met with teeth. Nevermind also, that the pup lost her tail in the scuffle because either he or the woman he was with tried to grab the child from our wolves and grabbed her tail.”

It was hard to keep a wave of bitterness from his voice. Days had past since he had found out, and he had still not digested the information fully. Nor, he knew, did he have a full picture of it. None of them did.

What he did know, though, was that it had awoken a certain guilt within Wren.

“Do me a favor, brother?”

The title of Kvarsheim meant little to him. He recognised it, having recalled Akavir make mention of it as an ally of sorts to Swiftcurrent, but he hadn't absorbed much of that information. Viinturuth was a firm believer in maintaining the privacy of their own - he did not trust others so easily. His frown deepened, and he rumbled his frustration.

If anything good were to come of this shit situation, he hoped this would serve as a lesson to learn from.

Viinturuth averted his eyes to consider the latest update, though Akavir was quick to demand his attention once more. Burgundy eyes sought champagne, and he communicated a silent request to elaborate.

Viinturuth digested the information seemingly silently—nothing that perturbed the dark Mayfair, knowing his sibling would offer his thoughts when ready. Instead, he focused upon a task, and Akavir took a moment to press his forehead against his brother’s with a gentle fierceness—a gesture of appreciation.

“Travel to Brechelient.” Surely, his brother would remember them, if only vaguely. Ibis had died as their leader. Lilitu had been raised there. “See if you can garner Lilitu’s whereabouts… and see how they are. Perhaps extend an olive branch of friendship to them.”

They had traded his daughter, allegedly, to Akashingo. He wanted to gain more information on it all… and if it was under the guise that there was no ill-memories there… Then so be it.

“Maybe take @Wren with you. Or @Arlette.”

Akavir reached for him in a cat-like gesture and Viinturuth leaned into it, butting his head to the raven of his brother's brow with a soft grunt. He withdrew as information came - Brecheliant, Lilitu, an olive branch. The ghost was aware of a sudden tightening within his chest at the mention of his niece's name. He had loved his brother's children with every fibre of his being, and the mystery that surrounded them had long haunted him through the years since last he'd seen them.

He swallowed.

When did you last see her? Viinturuth asked, and he was suddenly hungry for more: what of Arielle? It'd been for the crimson-kissed girl that Akavir had searched while Ibis had allowed herself to be captivated by another, and a muscle tightened in his jaw to recall what that betrayal had done to his brother.

Viinturuth seemed to accept this task—requesting more information. Lilitu and Arielle both had been cradled by their uncle for many a night in the cold Reneian kingdom. “Early spring. By chance—she was looking for her sister, who I guess after… everything… they had been reunited.” Arielle had not been dead—as assumed in the worst scenario by the haggard father. “She promised to return for another visit. This was when I found she had been involved in a dangerous place… Akashingo.”

He paused—his jaw clenching, his eyes distant as he looked away now. “She had been in an arranged marriage. A pawn… Undoing everything her mother and I had tried to do when we left the Reneian Empire.”

It troubled Akavir to speak of his daughter's position, and Viinturuth felt anger pulse hotly within him at the announcement of her arranged marriage. The very ides of it repulsed him: young girls traded off to be wed to strangers. The pallid ranger curled his lip, casting his dark eyes off in the direction in which his brother had turned his hollow eyes.

I will go soon, he stated, a frost having crept into his tone. Viinturuth was eager to meet these wolves who'd plotted to use his niece as a pawn in their political relations.