Totoka River Silence falls across the land

Because I would love to see how these to interact: @Grievous (maybe @Thyri, if she and Griev are travelling together?)

At night, he wandered, blown about the wind in search of enemies, of new places and people, of food. He was always swept back to the Raven's Watch, where he settled alongside his boy, lapsing off into weary sleep until another night came. It had been his routine ever since the great Arctic Beast — Bane — had left, retreating with winter and cold to the north in order to find more wolves...so he said, so he said. They had been left alone for a few moons now, watching the earth around them blossom into life, the ravens for which their home was named multiplying and flourishing above as they grew stagnant. He contemplated, many a time, rousing Mazatl one night and never coming back, leaving the empty Watch alone. Bastian they never saw, and so would be assumed gone if not for the brief scents of the German. Eros had been missing, his scent too faded. No other wolf, lured by Bane's honey-tinged words came to their door. It had been primarily him and his boy that he saw in the Watch, less than enough to hold down the fort.

Sunrise was coming soon, the skies to the east lightening, the calls of songbirds intensifying in a wave sweeping towards the shore, but Athan had not yet turned to return to the Raven's Watch. Instead, the strigoi lingered over the river, panting. Blood and water dripped from his muzzle, the differing consistencies creating a strange tattoo of plops on the stones and gravel by the shore of the river. A wolf lay dead, half in the water, a ruby necklace pouring into the waters and dyeing it maroon and crimson. He had been chasing the man all night, determined to fell the wily, teasing creature before night's end, and a burst of triumph had sided with pleasure and completion in his brain when the man fell, his blood spurting into the strigoi's wanting mouth. 

His crimson and pink tinged tongue slid over his stained ivory fur, his body collapsing under him in exhaustion. Ce păsărică ai fost, He cooed to the body, the glassy eyes now reflecting the sun's rising rays rather than the spark of life that had long since faded.

Gonna be stupid vague about how his thread with Thyri went lol

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Grievous chose to remain near the river, to hunt and recuperate, before making his final decision on if he wanted to circle back to the west, or continue on eastward. His choice had been made for him when he’d realized that the fish were practically jumping into the mouth’s of predators at this river, and he was not inclined to leave such rare luxury behind in any haste. He was feeling quite well-fed and rested when the scent of wolfblood reached his flaring nostrils on the dawn breeze. He wasn’t typically very curious— nosy, perhaps, but the blood of his kind didn’t interest him unless food was scarce— but he was feeling particularly vivacious after a deep, night-long sleep, so he started to investigate, as he had no where else to place his energy for now.

The scene he came upon was not one he expected, but neither one that troubled him. Not at first at least. He realized he was thirsty, which led him to give the wolf and his unfortunate prey a wide girth so that he might drink upstream of them. Still, he passed near enough to be addressed, and he turned an interested ear in the killer’s direction, as well as an upturned lip that served as a clear sign to warm the male that he would not be another of his victims.

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The body cooled quickly, its heat draining with what blood heavily flowed from the open wound in the unknown wolf's body. He greedily lapped at the congealing blood, his teeth nibbling at the wound, opening it to give him what purchase he can. The ceased heart pumps no blood into his mouth, and his sucking and pushing does little to urge the blood into his mouth. He ceases his suckling, licking what clotted blood landed on his mouth, quickly swiping his tongue over the stained fur in an attempt to rid himself of the quickly drying blood.

Athanasius rose, dipping his muzzle into the cool waters, a paw raising to rub at his neck and cheeks and mouth. His head rose to shake the red and pink tinged water. It was only then that he saw the presence lurking, moving away from the blood stained waters, to drink the cleaner waters upstream. Ah, He began, realizing what he had done with a wry chuckle. My apologies for ruining your drink. He ignored the upturned lip, having no interest in hunting now that his hunger had been quelled, sated by the blood of the unfortunate beneath him.