Getting old, Kjell decide with a grunt, was something he never wanted to do.  The very first hints of age nipped at his joints and his spine, sore after countless days of travel alongside his companion.  There was a time as a pup that he thought his own mother ridiculous for complaining of any of these aches, and while he’d never think to actually voice any of his misgivings, the swarthy male could understand that perhaps some of her gripes all those years ago.  Of course, his weren’t nearly as bad – how could they be?  He was fit, and he was still young, just a bit tired after miles upon miles of travel.

Huffing softly, he threw a glance over his shoulder to see how his partner was fairing.  Two years younger, and Bishop had so many few kilometers under her belt.  If he could help it, the wyvern would avoid putting such wear on such a pretty thing, though time would tell how far they’d move.  The forest itself seemed alright, now that they arrived, and he could smell the tang of fresh water not too far off.  Half a length in front of his companion, the timber wolf veered on his course again, silently guiding her towards the lagoon.  When they reached its banks, the male leaned down for a drink, sating his thirst before he finally rocked back and addressed the woman traveling alongside him.

“Naw so bad, here,” the wolf decided, scenting the air thoughtfully.  “Fresh water.  Gotta be somethin’ t’ eat where there’s water.  We can find a nice place t’ bed down, and we’ll be all set, yeah?  Whaddya think, Bishy?”

Bishop’s arrival at his side was met with a bump of shoulders, the man flashing his companion a sideways grin.  His ears were perked forward as he studied the younger wolf, his sunset gaze slowly shifting from one beautiful sight to another.  The lake seemed clean, seemed wonderful from here, and instinctual knowledge told him any bedding near a reliable water source was a wise decision.  They could hunt once they’d found a proper place to call home, and the woman’s memory was already proving to be a more useful tool than anything else they had.  His tail swung from side to side, thinking awkwardly against the Lyall’s side as he bobbed his head.  “Good,” he hummed, tail continuing to lash about. “Got no business with ‘nyone else, ‘nyways.”

Perhaps they’d change their minds when the wintertime arrived, but for now, he was content with this.  The mention of @Rook was met with a roll of golden eyes and a derisive snort. “Got half a mind an’ a mouthful a’ words fer th’ guy, y’know,” he grunted, raising one, wolfy brow at his friend’s sheepish expression.  Still, they’d only just arrived in the forests, and now was not the time to approach brothers.  Bishop was one of many, after all, and while Kjell’s curiosity dictated he find these others, especially the one that cast her off, he was not interesting forcing the topic.  Not yet.

Turning his attention back to the area, he leaned over with a nudge.  One brow wiggled at @Bishop.  “C’mon.  Le’s find a den, huh?  Make it nice.  Warm.  Ain’t gonna be long before th’ snows come, you know?  All the better to cuddle in~”

“Pah! Since when y’know me t’ let someone ignore me, huh?” Kjell rumbled back just as easily, disregarding the possibility that her brother might take his words and throw them out. Words were just words, after all, pretty things for pretty wolves – they could make a lady feel like a treasure or cut a man down to size, but they couldn’t cripple, and they wouldn’t kill. If this Rook wouldn’t listen to what he had to say and take to heart the harm he’d caused his twin, the dragon had no quarrel with taking to tooth and claw – in fact, he almost relished the opportunity, feeling physical punishment a much better learning tool. That he might be outmatched never even crossed his mind.

And besides, what lady didn’t like the notion of a man fighting in the name of her honor? Were she a maiden at the Grand Tourney, he’d wear her sash proudly about his arm, all bright teeth and wicked eyes as he smashed his way through the joust until her brother, too, could be unhorsed and left in the mud like the rest of the plebs who dared challenge him, who attempted to tarnish Bishop’s good name. It would be to @Bishop he would return with his hard won prize, placed on the fair lady’s lap before he went galloping off again.

A fine fantasy, truly – but this brother would have to be found first.

There were more important things to tend to, first. A nest, right, a nest. Following the Lyall’s gaze out towards the lake, he gave a thoughtful hum. Less work suited him just fine. “Badger sett, yeah. Good idea,” the dragon rumbled, reaching forward to nose the female’s shoulder before he turned about, not interested in staying too close to the water’s edge. “I like badgers,” Kjell continued, sniffing at the ground as he walked, searching for any scent that might lead them to a den. “Grumpy. Tough. Badgery!” he laughed, amused by his own word as his tail wagged once. “C’mon. Might have t’ dig it out, lil’. We’re bigger than a pair a’ badgers. What d’ya call a group a’ badgers?”