Dragoncrest Cliffs Wait for me to come home.

Dacio hoisted himself into a seated position, groaning at the tightness of his sore shoulders, and hunched them to better stretch the muscles there. His sister shared details of what little she had seen along the coast and he twitched a charcoal ear in quiet contemplation.

Soon, Winter would be upon them, and life as a dispersal pair had been trying enough in the Summer months. Drageda had supported them through their first cold season as juveniles, but to face the first as an adult without a pack was intimidating. "It was..." he paused, recalling the various sights he'd seen on his way to regroup with their family, "different." Dacio, a creature of habit and too stubborn to change his opinion, was not willing to believe anything could compare to their beloved shores.

He looked at Opalia, studied the sharpness of her champagne features to see subtle similarities to how he recalled their mother's face. In that fleeting moment he pondered if Sequoia might better resemble the fallen Fisa, before he turned his face away to mask the frown that threatened to sour him; natrona was not worth his thoughts. "I think we need to give some thought to settling somewhere before the snows fall," he said, knowing his sibling wouldn't like the idea of anything but a real kru just as he did, but desperate times called for desperate measures. "Maybe the mountains? We could spend a few months on the slopes until the thaw comes, I doubt Rusalka dogs would ever think to find us there."