Dragoncrest Cliffs all hours we chilling and maxing the flow

bearcurse.

he could not help but think what a good name it would be. maybe he would strike out on his own still. bury his guilt in loneliness instead. take on the name that seemed to mark his very flesh now.

njord be tellin' me 'bout shardik. the name strained on his tongue. a foul taste in his mouth as his hind legs ached softly and he carefully (awkwardly) laid himself down. den not so long after i be goin' an gettin' me an' his son mauled by the spirit o' shardik.

a bleeding of his guilt into the air between them.

is quen. sword be restin' still i t'ink. bear got 'im on his side. big ol' fuckin' claws...teeth too.

he grumbled, feeling plenty justified in his use of foul language.

you be comin' back home den? or you be like loko?

he missed his other brother in a strong way then and there. along with a flare of intense jealousy that his brother may be far from this coast.