you do not know who is your friend

or who is your enemy

until the ICE breaks.

Follko's serious expression did nothing to faze him, nor the words spoken. If anything, it only irked him, and in his state of being already riled up he snapped in the air in his direction. Get out already, for Borden's shape was slowly being eaten by the fog and Ice had no desire to spend more time near the arrogant old man. Not even the knowledge that he could probably take him down easily in a fight calmed him. Knowing that the dead animals had reached the cedarwood to the west did not make his mind easier, and speaking of Rissa's fate was like making it all come alive again, the pain, the worry, the helpless anger. So when Follko gave in to a fit of coughing, Ice's silver eyes grew wide and he flew a foot into the air, landing in a ready stance with his teeth bared and tail high. Was he.. was he sick? Like them? For a moment murder was spelled across his face, masking the fear beneath, but then the elder wolf was gone, following Borden, and Ice slowly relaxed. Follko, Angier called him, that dark old wolf.


Grizzly Hollow. When he heard it, he knew it. Was it, hm, Fenru who had told him? Probably. Fenru said a lot of things. But if he had left, why was he back? Frowning, Ice stared at the vague shapes in the fog, before they disappeared altogether and the hushed sound of Borden's raised voice came rolling in like a distant echo of a dream. Well. It wasn't Ice's problem, and if he had been Borden, he probably would've reacted the same way. Blinking a little he shuffled the snow with a paw, trying not to remember all the souls who had come and gone from Swift River while he lived in there... not to remember Indru, who had come and gone many times. Somehow, he found himself grateful when Angier steered the conversation back to the pack of bastard wolves, and the near-white Guardian sighed. "I haven't seen them either," he confessed quietly; always too late, only seeing their slowly-filling tracks across the white snow. Always smelling their foul stench on branches and trunks, never quick enough to catch them and bleed them.


His mind thirsted for the snow painted red.


Angier's sudden tale of the Hollow frustrations made Ice's ears fall backward, and he turned to peer up at the towering peak. These were dark times indeed, and by the sound of it, Borden was not one to be afraid often. But if his children were threatened.. if their entire existence was threatened... it only made sense to fear. Ice knew the feeling, the cold fist around your heart, choking, gripping, mercilessly forcing the life out of you as each breath you took closed your throat more and more. "He does well to fear," he said quietly. "For the life of his young." Silver eyes returned to the tawny man. "I don't know what they want. They've never been here before. They've never shown up at our borders. One day, Rissa was just gone, and they were here. No questions, no ultimatums, nothing." His voice ended with the click of his teeth, his heart light and fast in his chest.


"We're vulnerable, Angier... all of us." Quiet. "Because we know nothing. We cannot predict them. Aiyana would not follow anyone these days, barely even the ones she knows, but what if she was overpowered? What of the children who know no pain, who will believe good of anyone who smiles?" Clearly not one of the River children, but who knew what other pups roamed the forest — what of Borden's children, or the pups up in the mountains? He might loath Rhysis, but he would not wish Rissa's end upon innocent children. "We should stop waiting. We should stop guarding." His voice hardened, his jaws tensed, and his gaze flicked up to the ever-present Serpent. "We should end this, once and for all, before they destroy us."


He wasn't sure how, or even if, they could stop the sickness, but one thing was certain: if they united, they would be able to bring down the black-souled bastards who murdered the children of others.

.ice aesir