Quiet was the last thing on his mind, but the creek was inviting. It reminded him of the days before Duskfire - when his family was whole, and they had only good fortune ahead. It was a recent discovery, this creek. There was always a natural run-off from the glacier, spilling out in to the various pools that dotted the territory; so this creek was of little use to the Duskfire wolves. It flowed along the border of the territory and away from it, in to the hills.
It was the perfect place to hide away from all of his troubles. But Njal's troubles followed him closely, the way a shadow follows it's owner. He stood brooding in the dark, beneath an overhang of weeping willow. Maybe one day he would bring Maera here... She would no doubt enjoy the drooping tendrils of the tree. They could fish together here - her first lessons. For now, it was his hideaway.
One which was snatched away from him as swiftly as it had been discovered, for a foreigner traipsed through the reeds nearby. Njal chose to ignore him. This was near to the claimed territory he once ruled, but not close enough for him to be on a firm guard. A brief glance was all he gave to the silver stranger - and then he was back to staring dead-eyed in to the river.