you have no idea how much I laughed at the premise of this whole thread, it's wonderful.
If he had been obsessed with looking north before @
Wraith returned, it was nothing compared with now, in these agonising days between @
Mittani's departure and his return along with so many of Craw's old beloved. A mentor, a friend, a wife and a daughter... it was dizzying. He looked at the wolves in the pack and thought about the wolves of Ritter and almost felt as though he were experiencing emotional whiplash.
It had been the presence of @
Roosemooth and @
Odysseia which had captured his obsession most, at first, but then @
Angharad had crept back into his soul like she always had, and he yearned for her return in a way that he had forgotten he was capable of. And then he would look at Morganna and the emotional whiplash struck again, but tenfold.
Unable to know how it would work out until they returned, Craw had resigned himself to not being able to predict the future and while the surrender of control made him uneasy, he had to accept it. Everything would work out so long as he was able to keep a clear head, and he reminded himself of that in every moment that he wasn't either gazing out to the north or doing something else and pretending that he didn't just want to be watching that horizon. He couldn't become an productive lump just because his world was about to do yet another flip-flop.
It was in this moment that he was trying to distract himself from northern thoughts, and in seeking some present-day normalcy had headed straight for his partner. The crow perched in the skeletal berry bushes was given barely a thought as he approached her slumbering form, intending to just sprawl out next to her and share the brief moment of clear sky, but then it dropped from the bare branches, wing spread, and his eyes drew to the movement automatically.
The black bird swooped low over Morganna's oblivious form and then flapped away, and Craw frowned, because had it just...? Seeing the slight movement in her as she reacted to the present, a thin smirk spread across his face as he continued on, the rough, wheezing chuckle only rising in his throat once she had noticed him.
"Good luck," he said, coming to stand beside the boulder so that their heads were level despite him standing and her laid out, his amused yellow eyes fixed on the droppings on her crown which was starting to slide down the side of her head.
"Maybe the herds will come back to the tundra as long as you wear it."