Northstar Vale signed and sealed

@Warbone. Dagfinn returns from Easthollow a little earlier than he expected.

Feeling oddly blank, Dag staggered back into the warm fold of the pack. A few packmates ran to greet him, whisking tails and inquisitive noses buzzing like bees around his coat, but Dag moved through them without pausing, without feeling their presence.

He was tired. That was the problem. After fleeing the Valley, Dag had made his way quickly back to Northstar Vale, not pausing to eat or even drink. There would be water back home, and he could go a few more days without food. What he really wanted was rest, rest and Saena.

Somehow, though, as he paced through the pack that day, Dagfinn ended up bumping his head into Warbone's shoulder (on his good side, thankfully), eyes asking for solace, for anything.

*weeps on your shoulder*

Their ranks had thinned almost abruptly, but Warbone didn't think there was any cause for concern; and he wouldn't worry, of course, not until it was much, much too late.

He felt a brush against his side, and though he assumed it was the recently very-frisky Saena, he was pleasantly surprised to find it was Dagfinn instead. He preferred romping with the young soldier more than anyone, as he was an enduring sort, and could take a fair amount of pressure from the scarred golem. He wasn't afraid of hurting the lad or otherwise frightening him off, but if he was looking for the typical playful mood in which his second greeted him, he was surprised not to find it there now.

"Dag," he rumbled, the tone of his voice acknowledging the young male's present mood with a note of mild affection— from pseudo-father to pseudo-son. He passed his tongue over his dark crown, then silently implored with an open stare: what's wrong?

I knoooow D: I will miss it forever.

The dark youth remained silent for a moment, his tail wheeling to acknowledge the alpha's affection, to assure him that it was appreciated even if he didn't have the energy to respond in kind. As he rested there, warmth and feeling began to come back into his aching limbs, and his tail beat more firmly against the ground as he felt this strength.

It was good to be home.

"It was a bad trip," he said simply, speaking at last. "I will not make it again."