The Sunspire oh, what could i do to change your mind?

Traveling through a short break in the warm spring rains, River neared the end of her journey back from the taiga. She was a little worse for wear, but still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, with a few new nicks to her name. The left corner of her mouth stung from where the insecure bloodwolf had left his perishable mark, and she could still feel a slight twinge on her left hip, where the truculent wolverine had scored her.

The original plan had been to disappear into the woods of the lake and wallow to herself for a while, but it changed when she discovered the claim of a pack in the canyon. Immediately, the huntress veered west, far from their boundary and up the nearest incline she could see. By sunfall, she was standing on the slopes of the Sunspire and surveying the shadowed canyon below.

Anxiety then began to wrack the earthstar, and she melted to the ground, rolling about and rubbing herself into the cold pallet of snowmelt, as if attempting to rub off the unpleasant feelings. She groaned, frustrated on a number of levels.

Of course he was called by the mountain. How could he not be, when it had yet to be fully tamed and the fruition of his father’s legacy at a standstill? He held every intention of seeking the pass soon and reacquainting himself with Mahler, But first, he longed only to see the only place he wanted to call home.

Steady, silver paws carefully guided the wolf along the more insecure footholds of the mountain slope, and soon he found himself climbing higher along the Sunspire, the views below offering a tantalizing taste to what the world could offer.

But what truly drew him was the strong scent of another—as familiar to him as the very feel of his own heartbeat in his chest. Family.

And so when icy eyes bore down upon the golden form of his sister, Argent was torn between a smile and surprise, never believing her to have any desire to return to the lands they had once heralded.

“Sister,” he uttered, prowling closer, his eyes then sharply falling upon the flash of a wound as she rolled along the ground, his gaze narrowing quickly then.

She was so busy with grumbling and grinding herself into the frosted dirt, that River missed the approach of another.

Sister.

The marlwolf flipped back onto her stomach, tense and vengeful at the sudden voice. She looked upon the immediately familiar figure of her brother, and it took her a beat to register what had been said. Her snarl fell away, replaced at first by relief, and then by a cold sense of dread.

Rather than greet him with the warmth and familiarity he might have come to expect of her, River rose to stand upon rigid legs, her body language uncertain. Did he know? Had he come to find her at Ketzia's behest? She only assumed the worse, causing her to frown at him. What are you doing here? she asked, half accusatory, half panic-stricken.