Totoka River i'm on my tip toes

wintersbane had determined long ago that how much of an asshole he was depended largely on the day, his mood, and the situation at hand. thus far, there's no reason to be anything less than amiable to her. especially since she's offering to show him a place to safely cross the river. she answers his inquiry with a yes, confirming his assumption. his gaze lifts from the path she takes him on towards where her gaze briefly travels. it looks small from afar — the island she mentions — and wintersbane finds himself being entirely perplexed by the idea that wolves could viably live on an island. perhaps it is his inherent hatred of the coast, beaches and sea in general that cause a cynical rise of his brow; but it rises, cynically, all the same.

how in the hell do you survive on that thing? wasn't food scarce? or did they not eat meat? could a wolf survive off of vegetation alone? he doesn't know and he doesn't plan on ever finding out. what happens if there's a bad storm? he asks next. no; island living was never going to be for him.

the question being turned to him does not come as entirely unexpected. if the dark brother learned anything during his time as a snitch it was that information is valuable and it should never be given freely. an answer for an answer. i've ran with this pack and that pack over the years, not a lie. from teaghlaigh to blackfeather woods to moonspear and back again. ultimately, i think it's time i try to build something of my own. it was always the endgame for him. he was too ambitious to reach a point and stop and though he cares for the wolves of blackfeather woods he realizes it's a ship quickly sinking.

the vartija's a fresh start. for him and anyone who wants to follow their own ambitions.